Their Last Hope
by lethalshikaino
Summary: Irene, divorced, a single mom, is worried of her daughter Erza suffering in abandonment issues and in dire need of a father figure. For her daughter's sake, Irene enrolled her in a Companion Program, where they're partnered with Acnologia, an ex-convict with a sole purpose of earning points for community service for his freedom (A forced sentence leads to a reckless passion) OOC AU
1. The Start of Everything

This story is adapted from Laramie Briscoe' Trick. I just admire Irene, I think she deserves some love. This pairing is strictly Acnorene, so if you are not comfortable with it, don't continue. By the way, Erza is about 6-years old this time. Well, this is an AU, and a bit OOC.

I do not own anything.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

Irene

When my husband walked out on me over a year ago, it devastated me. When the divorce papers came, it wrecked me. When we had to sell our house, it broke me.

But then he moved in with his new flavor of the month and told our daughter his new woman wasn't into children. That pissed me off.

Now Erza feels abandoned, and I can't make it better; no matter how hard I try. I'm desperate to help her adjust to the loss of a male figure in her life. The Companion Program that matches adults up with children who have loneliness and abandonment issues is my last hope.

The counselors tell me he's doing community service hours, and I ask to sit in on his meetings with Erza. The minute I see him astride the matte black Harley, I know neither my nor Erza's life will ever be the same again.

Acnologia

Community Service. Two words I should be thankful for, but I'm not. I resent the hours away from building my business. The two previous kids I'd been paired up with didn't work out because their mothers were more interested in getting in my bed than making sure their child was taken care of. This next match with a little girl is my last hope. Unless this kid works out, I'm destined to serve time.

When they push her into the room wearing red converse with a black dress, her scarlet hair in ponytail, and studious glasses on her face, I can tell she's scared - of new people, of change, of being pushed aside. Something inside of me breaks, and I want this girl to feel wanted again.

What I'm unprepared for is meeting her mom. The second our hands touch, I see fireworks, bright lights, and a picture of the future I could one day have. The future I've never allowed myself to wish for.

Community service becomes more than a chore, more than the precious hours I have to give up. In the months that follow, I realize Erza and Irene are just like me; they've been abandoned, left behind by the world, forgotten by those who should love them.

Thanks to the one last hope in both our lives - we found the light in the darkness we'd been searching for.

* * *

1

Irene

"You're his last hope."

Layla, the director of The Companion Program lays it on thick, and I'm doing my best to be open-minded, but what she's told me is has me doubting my decisions. "He's a felon?" I rub my forehead with the heel of my hand, hoping to relieve some of the pressure that's built behind my eyes. This is a big decision.

"He was a felon," she clarifies. "This charge was elevated because of his past, but I assure you – he is a changed man."

Am I crazy for even considering this? On the one hand, I think so. But on the other, I try to see the best in everyone and I know it's possible to change. Look at what I've done for myself in the past two years. Who am I to judge? "What did he do?"

"It's a vandalism charge. That's all I'm allowed to say, but if he can't be matched with a child to perform his community service hours, he's going to go to jail. Given his previous charges, the jail time will be exacerbated." She stops, eyeing me critically. "Acnologia has done a one-eighty from where he was. He's trying to build a business, trying to re-build his life. This would completely derail any chance of it."

"I've gotten to know him," the woman gives me a sympathetic smile. "He's not a bad man. Put himself in bad situations and reacted badly? Sure. But bottom line is if she was my child, I'd trust him with her."

I look over at my daughter, Erza, and wonder if I'm doing the right thing. In my heart, I know I am. She's been devastated; we've been devastated since my husband walked out on us. The marriage wasn't perfect and of course we had issues, especially about Erza, but I'd never expected him to leave. He gave up what I thought was a good and solid marriage to move in with a woman who didn't care he had a child. Children aren't her thing and they aren't his either. That's left Erza without the guidance of a male figure and she's been withdrawn since the separation began. It only got worse as the divorce dragged on. When it was final, we were appointed a court counselor, and the counselor suggested I contact The Companion Care program which leads me to where I am now. It's left both of us vulnerable and questioning what we have to offer. Maybe if Erza gets her self-esteem back, I can get mine back too.

"You swear you'd trust your child with him?"

"I would," she tells me, reaching out to grip my hand. The contact is enough to startle me. For the months leading up to the separation, my husband and I never touched, and since then, it's been just me and her. It's foreign to feel someone else's skin against mine now. Regardless of their gender or age. When you aren't touched for long periods of time, it's a shock to the system when it's being reintroduced. What's an even bigger shock is I didn't realize until this moment how lonely I've been. Human contact shouldn't feel foreign, it's a reminder I need to get back out into the world.

"Can I be there? I don't want her to feel uncomfortable, and I'd like to know who he is myself. She and I have been a team for a while now, and I'd like for us to do this together."

She balks for the first time and it gives me pause. "I'm not sure you should be there, I don't know if he would like it or not," she breaks off with a shrug and a grimace.

It's almost a look of warning and immediately I wonder what she's hiding

"I'll allow it, but I'm going to be honest with you," she stops and sighs. "Acnologia Belserion is a gorgeous man. If I am not happily married, I would make a pass at him – age difference be damned."

I laugh despite myself.

"The other two kids we've paired him with have been a problem because their mothers have made it difficult for him. They made inappropriate advances and he didn't reciprocate. Oddly enough, they complained and he felt like he could no longer remain with their children."

Oh, I understand now. I hold my hands up. "That won't be a problem with me. I'm a single mom who works a full-time job, has an online Etsy store that occupies hours of my time, and takes care of her child. I'm not looking for a relationship, now or even five years from now. I'm just trying to live my life, take care of my daughter, and put food on our table."

As God as my witness those words are true. I'm still trying to get over the anger, despair, and grief I feel having lost my eight-year marriage. That's not to say I'm not open to something happening somewhere down the line, but I'll never chase it.

"Okay Irene, we'll set up the meeting. I believe we can expect good results."

I stand, holding out my hand to the director. I can feel hope and optimism for the first time since my ex-husband left. Maybe this man can help me reach my daughter, maybe he can help her understand not all men leave. Maybe if she believes, then so can I.

* * *

Acnologia

"How is this one going to be different than the rest?"

I kick my long legs out in front of me, trying not to make too much noise as the steel-toes of my boots meet the metal of the desk in front of me. Regardless of what other people think about me, I would prefer to blend into the background. I don't really want to make a spectacle of myself. I've been told the way I carry myself doesn't allow me to blend into the background, but I am who I am and I refuse to let people screw me around.

Silver, my probation officer, God bless his soul is flipping through some paperwork trying to find me a match. I think he wants to keep me out of jail as much I don't want to go back there. "They swear this woman isn't interested in finding a man, and it seems the little girl needs someone who can help her. The name's Erza."

"What's wrong with her?" I lean forward, keeping my arms tucked tightly across my chest, hands in my armpits. As a kid, I had a bad habit of talking with my hands.

He's going over the info sheet. "Looks like the dad slash husband walked out on them, and he isn't interested in being a father to Erza anymore. She's withdrawn and the mother is worried. Irene, the mother, has requested to be there for at least the first few sessions."

Any mother who gave a damn about her kid would, but that makes me nervous. "I can't fault her for wanting to be there, but damn, what if she turns into another one? I can't go to jail. The fucking shop is booked solid for the next three months. I've finally got all my shit figured out."

"I know, and don't think I'm not sympathetic to your plight, man."

"Oh kiss my ass."

Silver glares. "There does need to be some semblance of professionalism here, no matter how much I like you and feel as if you're doing great things."

Fuck me. I roll my neck, already feeling a tension headache starting to form. I've already wasted too much time today. "Just set it up and let me know what time I need to be there."

It's time to pay my debt to society. To try and right the wrongs I caused as an angry young adult who had nobody to shape me into the man I have become. The vandalism charge? That's bullshit and a story for another day. I pull my phone out of the pocket of my well-worn jeans. Shit it's already two pm. I'm gonna be at the shop late tonight.

"Tomorrow, nine am. They want to get this show on the road, and the quicker you start, the quicker your hours will accumulate."

Whatever. "See ya in two weeks," I tell him, referencing my next parole check in.

I have work to do, and it looks like I have a little girl to meet tomorrow. As I step out into the bright sunshine, I put on my aviators and hope like hell traffic isn't bad as I make my way back across the bridge to my side of town. The side where I'm comfortable – where people have rough edges and good hearts. My edges have sometimes been razor sharp and it's time to dull them – anger and resentment have gotten me nowhere but serving almost a thousand hours of community service.

Growing up sucks, especially when you realize all the bad shit you've done to yourself, to spite yourself. I've never shied away from taking responsibility and I'll take this the way I have everything else, but damn if it's not coming at the worst possible time for me personally.

I start my bike and ease into afternoon traffic. Time to get to work.

A loud noise wakes me from a sleep so deep I'm pretty fucking sure I was dead. It's this annoying beep – constant and getting louder by the second. I reach out, slapping my hand against my cell phone, but it keeps going off. Why did I set the alarm? I wrack my brain, trying to figure out why in the hell I had to get up so early today. I was in the shop until almost four in the morning, but I made sure to set my alarm. Why? The reason is right there, on the periphery of my memory, knocking on the door, but it's not clicking. What the fuck did I have to do today?

Suddenly I sit up, knowing exactly where I should be today, what I should be doing. The sinking feeling is already taking up residence in my stomach.

"Son of a fucking bitch," I grab the phone, squinting to see what time it is. Eight fifty-five. "Shit!"

It's inevitable I'm going to be late as hell for my first day. What a way to make a good impression. Quickly I put on the nearest clothes, a jacket, tied my shoulder-length dark blue hair into a man bun, and head out. Effort counts, right? Because I'm about to put forth the most effort I ever have. This shit has to work.

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	2. The First Meeting

I do not own anything.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

2

Irene

My heart is breaking and my hope is dwindling as the seconds tick by, turning into minutes. The man is late, and I don't want to be the person who tells my daughter she's been abandoned again. She'd been more excited about today than I'd seen her in months, as we'd left the house. She hadn't been able to sit still as she'd twirled around the living room, her ponytailed scarlet hair and the ruffles of her tutu spinning in circles with her.

 _"Mom," she turned to face me as I locked the door on our apartment. "Do you think he'll like my outfit?"_

 _She'd picked it out so painstakingly – it was her favorite. A plain white sleeveless blouse with a ribbon, a blue ruffled tutu that I'd made with the help of some Pinterest board, and her red Converse. Her hair with the same color as mine neatly ponytailed in a ribbon, and the glasses she wore made her appear more studious than her years. My heart clenched as I thought of all the moments her dad was missing out on._

 _With the biggest smile I can muster I look down at her. "Erza honey, you're the most beautiful six-year-old in the world. Of course he's gonna love it."_

"Let's give him a few more minutes," Layla crosses her legs, folding her hands on her lap.

The way she kicks her foot to a rhythm only she hears says she's just as worried he's not going to show as I am.

I'm tempted to tell her no. I won't put Erza through the embarrassment of being left again. I can't put myself through it either, but some force I can't name stops me. Maybe I want to give this guy a chance, maybe I'm sick of breaking my daughter's heart. There's only so many times I can absorb the tears and carry the burden of her sadness.

"We'll wait," I fake an optimism I don't believe, a happiness I'm not sure I can ever feel again.

Words fail both she and I as we sit at the table. I'm begging whatever God there is to not disappoint my baby girl again. I'm negotiating to make sure things go right for once. As I'm about to lose hope, the door to the room we've been sitting in opens and I can feel his presence before I see him.

It's this shock. Like I turned a light switch off after running my feet over the carpet in the winter. You know, the one where you actually see the spark between your finger and the plastic? That spark passes through my body before I even see him.

As he makes his way over the threshold of the door, I suck in a breath, willing my lungs to let it out. Layla was right, he is gorgeous. Like "climb him like a tree and devour the strong column of his throat" gorgeous. He's tall. His shoulders wide, waist lean, hands have smidgens of grease on them. He's blue collar, and for that I breathe a sigh of relief. Dark hair is tied in a man bun. But it's his face that's so devastatingly handsome it makes me want to weep. High cheekbones, angular nose, and the beginnings a beard cover his cheeks, the hair light against the natural tan of his skin.

"About time you made it, Mister Belserion," Layla stands up, striding across the room with sure steps, her heels pounding against the hard floor.

"Lalyla," he gives her a troubled smile that I'm sure have made many panties drop.

"You're late," she fixes him with a glare and a disapproving purse of her lips.

"And I'll stay to make up for it as long as," his eyes find mine, and he raises his eyebrows. "What's your name?"

"Irene," I supply, because I'd like to hear what it sounds like coming out of his mouth.

"Irene," he repeats and I think I may have died a little right in this chair. The sound is rough, sexy, and almost a growl, as rugged as the man himself looks. "Is okay with it."

I agree because I know Erza's going to be a tough nut to crack. She's going to be pissed he's late, and I want him to have a chance. I want him to break through her shell, like I haven't been able to. I'll help him as long as he takes interest because I truly believe he's my last hope. If he can't bring her back to me, I'm at a loss; I have no more ideas on what to do.

"We'll stay as long as we can. We have some things to do today."

"Good," he smiles at both of us. "Can I meet her?"

Layla hits the intercom, asking them to bring Erza in and I shoot up a prayer. This has to work. If it doesn't, I'm not sure what we're going to do.

* * *

Acnologia

I run my hand through my hair, trying to tame it. The top seriously needs a cut, and I know I look like I just rolled out of bed. They probably think I tied one on and left a woman asleep on my pillow. Fuck. As I bring my hand down, I see smudges of grease still in the corners of my fingernails. So much for making a great first impression.

"Any tips you want to give me?" I look over at the mom, hoping she responds to my question. I've always liked kids, but haven't really been around them before.

She shakes her head, her scarlet hair falling in her face. "Sorry, I can't make this easier on you. It's her you've got to impress, not me."

So it's like that? I admit to myself I would have judged her had she not been such a mama bear to her daughter. "I can respect that."

The pointed look directed my way lets me know I better respect it.

The door to the room opens and I turn around. There are moments in your life no one can prepare you for. Snippets of time that make or break the future. As I get a glimpse of the little girl standing in the doorway, I realize with startling clarity this is one of those moments.

"Erza, meet Acnologia," Layla puts her hand out, motioning for her to come further into the room, but Erza doesn't take it.

She glances up, looking at me through glasses that appear to be too large for her face, because she's so small. Her brown eyes are huge, and she reminds me of one of those cherubs on baby commercials. I offer her a smile, but she doesn't smile back.

"Mom," she looks behind me, her wide eyes on Irene. "Why was he late?" Her voice is shaking, and I realize immediately the fear there. I've had that fear too many times in my life to count.

It's the fear you've been forgotten and left alone.

Irene opens her mouth to answer, but as she does, I go down on one knee. Hopefully being more on her level will help Erza be more receptive to me.

"I was late," I admit, having a seat on the ground, sitting cross-legged. "See," I hold out my hands so she can take in the grease stains. "I'm a mechanic and I was up late last night trying to get someone's bike up and running. They had to get to work this morning."

Erza steps closer, inspecting my hands. "But that meant you were late," she accuses.

I could go into a whole explanation about how people pay me to make their experience better than my own, but at six I know she won't understand.

"I know," I clasp my hands in my lap. "And for that I'm very sorry. I can tell you I won't be late again."

She juts her lip out at me. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

This kid is so damn smart, and she's been hurt so deeply it makes my head ache. "I didn't promise," I point out. "I said I wouldn't do it again."

I reach out, flipping my hand over, palm side up, wondering if she'll take the bait. Will she allow me to have some sort of physical connection to her.

Her eyes look down at my palm, then back up into my face. She's not going to go for it, not yet anyway. "Why didn't you promise?"

As someone who's consistently been lied to their whole life, I recognize it in her wariness. "Promises are meant to be broken, right? Nobody ever keeps them."

She's quiet, taking in what I've said to her. "My mom does."

"But she's the only one, isn't she?"

Erza nods. "So let's not bullshit each other," I let it slip before I realize what I've done.

Erza giggles and I give her a grin. "Probably shouldn't have cussed, huh? Let's not say things we don't mean. I'll be honest with you; you be honest with me?"

There's a silence as she mulls it over. After what feels like a thousand hours she walks slowly over to me, and sits in front of me, her legs matching mine.

"Okay."

One word - four little letters - have never meant so much.

"Are you mad at me for being late?" I ask, because it's important to start this off truthfully.

"Yes," she whispers, almost as if she's scared to be honest.

"I'm mad at myself for being late, too."

The admission seems to make her eyes soften towards me, and I want to say more, but I'm unsure of what will make this better.

"Erza, we gotta go," I hear Irene say in the background, saving all of us from the awkward silence that's starting to descend.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" I ask, hoping they aren't going to shut me down. I think the kid needs it, just as much as I do. I hurry to stand, to act like the adult I am in the face of these ladies who've put me through the wringer.

"You'll have to be on time tomorrow," Irene tells me. "She has aikido lessons and we can't afford to miss them."

I wonder if she chooses the word afford because of the cost, or if Erza wasn't gifted in it and one missed session affects her in a bad way. As bad as I want to know, I decide to keep my mouth shut.

"Alright, can we meet here again tomorrow? Same time?"

Irene looks at her daughter. The two of them have some sort of conversation with their eyes, and then Irene nods. "We'll be here, go grab your bag," she motions with her head to her daughter.

After Erza is out of the room, she walks up to me, facing me down. Her head comes to my collar bone, but it doesn't seem to bother her.

"Whatever you do, don't disappoint her again. She's had enough of it in her life already. I'm willing to give this another shot, but if you're late tomorrow, you're going to have to enjoy your time behind bars."

I grab her shoulders and it's like I've been struck by a bolt of lightning. My heart beats double-time, and I find myself at a loss for words. Weird snippets of a life I've never had flash before my eyes and my breath comes faster. I look down at her, and notice her cheeks are flushed, her breathing is also accelerated.

It takes me a moment to grab hold of myself, but when I finally do, I push the words out from between my dry lips.

"I don't make the same mistake twice. Not anymore."

Her brown eyes, so much like her daughter's flash. "See that you don't."

* * *

Thank you, Pi pi m for the review. And thank you to those who followed me, as well as the favorites.

Thank you for the support.

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	3. For The Best Baby

I do not anything.

Credits to Mashima-Senpai and Laramie Briscoe. This is a short chapter so probably I'll update as much as possible, and as much as I can.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

3

Acnologia

Sweat drips from my forehead, trailing down to my eyes. Right as I know it's going to slip in and sting like a son of a bitch, I use my forearm to wipe it away. A happy sigh releases the tension from my shoulders and I glance around.

This is my happy place, my shop is everything. From the oil-stained concrete floors to the walls holding the tools that allow me to do the job at hand. It's small, barely big enough for me, sometimes a helper, and ten bikes, but it's mine. Free and clear is something I never thought I would say, but it's true. This place is mine and nobody is going to take that away from me.

Unless I end up having to serve time.

Most days I can keep that thought at bay, other days it's at the forefront of my mind. I've been there before - serving time - and I don't want to go back. I can't go back after I've had this taste of freedom. I won't go back to jail, that was it. Final.

In my jeans pocket, my phone vibrates. Forgetting I have grease all over my hands, I reach in, pulling the device out. Fuck, I mumble as I realize I've covered up the message with the mess on my hands.

Getting up, I grab a rag, doing my best to wipe everything off. When I can finally see enough of the screen, I see it's a text from Layla.

 _Layla: I can't be there tomorrow Mister Belserion, but please be on time for Erza's session. It's as important to her as it is to you._

Fuck all these people who think they know me, think they know what I'm going through. It's probably more important to me than it is to Erza. I have to prove to someone in this life I can do at least one fucking thing right. If it's helping her not to feel the same loneliness I feel, then so be it.

 _Acnologia Belserion: Got it._

The familiar rage boils up in my gut. I want to hit something, get rid of the inadequacy I always feel when I fuck up.

"This is what got you into some shit last time," I remind myself. I'm older and wiser now. Older and wiser me decides to take a break, and take a run. If I'm physically exhausted the only thing I can do is work or sleep.

Two things that definitely won't get me in trouble.

Four miles later and I find myself in front of the neighborhood store. I didn't grab a bottle of water when I started out, and now I need one.

Walking in, I wave at the cashier, who's usually the one here when I come in.

"Afternoon," the older man calls to me. "Hot one today, huh?"

"Hopefully the last one," I'm grabbing the biggest bottle of water when I realize I'm kind of hungry too. Turning the corner, I find myself in the section with kid's toys.

"The weather man says so," he's continuing. "Supposed to have a cold front move through tonight. They're saying low sixties in the morning."

"I can't wait," I mumble as I glance over stuff decidedly much more girly than anything else I've ever looked at.

Am I trying to buy her affection? It's a question anyone would ask themselves, but I feel like she'd talk more if we did something together. Decision made, I grab a container of crayons and a coloring book. Every kid loves to color - right?

Taking everything up to the counter, I grab a bag of beef jerky and add it to my purchases.

"A coloring book?"

I answer with a chuckle. "Don't even ask. You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

He bags it all up, and I walk slowly outside, having a seat on the curb as I drink my water and eat my jerky.

My future is more up in the air than it's ever been, but I can't help but hope it's all going to work out. I'm just not sure for who. Me? Erza?

I hope for both of us, but that cynical part of my personality won't allow me to fully believe it.

* * *

Irene

"Do you need my help?" I ask my daughter Erza as we enter our small apartment hours later.

It's been a long day, and I don't really want to help her, but she's the best thing in my life, and I would never voice those thoughts to her. The fact of the matter is, I'm tired. This life is much different than our previous one, and I'm still desperately trying to find my way.

"No Mom, I got it," she shuts the bathroom door and I hear the bathtub water running.

With a sigh, I open my bedroom door, not wanting to necessarily look at the little corner I've converted into a business center. I'm tired, and the last thing I want to do is work at filling the orders from my Etsy store.

But this is what puts food on the table and allows Erza to take the aikido lessons she loves so much. So I'll do it, even if it means it's only going to be five hours of sleep for me tonight. And lately, her master recommended that she should take other martial arts lessons as well as she is a prodigy and a fast learner. So I need to work harder, I want to give my daughter her best chance. She's the best baby that any mother could have, and I am so blessed that she's mine, so I'll be the best mom for her. That's my resolve, I will do anything for her.

Unlike her father, I won't ever allow myself to disappoint her. Doesn't matter what it takes, what I have to sacrifice, I'll prove to her there are people she can trust.

Even if there's no one for me to trust.

* * *

7 follows and favorites! Yay! Thank you for the reviews too!

Anyone here who also ships Acnologia and Irene? I feel like I'm the only one. Except as the King and Queen of the Dragons, they look hot together.

Nyx Necro: Thank you for the PM, that was really encouraging!

Please review! I want to hear from you as well. Are they in character? Or, is it already OOC and I am just forcing them to fit into their character. Phew. Let me know.


	4. Coloring the Sprite's Life

I do not own anything. Here's an update as promised. :) Enjoy!

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

4

Irene

"What do you wanna wear today?" I take a huge drink of the iced coffee I made myself first thing this morning. Some mornings I need the jolt of caffeine worse than others; and today I really need it.

"My red shoes," she claps her hands.

I can't help the smile spreading across my face. We got those red Converse at Fiore brand new with tags, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to afford them at the time. It was before I realized I had a gift for what I've turned into my side business. When there had been no extra money for anything, I figured out how creative and motivated I am.

"Red shoes we got," I hold them up. "But what else?"

She thinks for a moment, her expression pensive. "Jeans like yours."

I look down seeing my jeans with the hole in the knee. I guess I should thank my lucky stars that deconstructed jeans are now a thing. These are just so old they're falling apart, but everyone thinks I spent a hundred bucks on them.

"Okay girlfriend, go grab them," I hold up the red flannel shirt I'm going to wear over my gray t-shirt. "Grab your red flannel too. We'll be matchy."

It's her favorite thing to be. If she's not wearing a tutu, her blue one to be exact, she loves to match me. At first it seemed weird to me, but I've grown to love it and it works well for the budget.

"We're not gonna have time to grab breakfast."

I was up late last night filling orders. My side business - an Etsy store that makes stickers for planners and handmade bullet journal stamps - has really taken off in the past few months. I'm finally getting some savings, but the hours are killing me.

"Can I eat st-waberry… strawberry cheesecake?" she asks with a little struggle, coming to the kitchen, putting her arm through her long-sleeved shirt.

We've already had Strawberry Cheesecake twice this week, but I have to do what I have to do. "One, and take a banana, too." "Oh kay! Is that all Mommy? She asked grinning. "Uhm, get me a slice too." I gave in. I can't help it. It's our favorite.

We hustle out to the car, and since Erza is so small, she scampers to the back, where she still sits in a booster seat. Only a few more pounds to go, though.

"You think he'll be late, Mom?"

I hope like hell he won't. "I'm sure he'll be there, waiting on us." My smile is unsure, even to my own eyes, as I see my reflection in the rearview mirror.

If he's not, I'm going to find out where he lives, and give him a piece of my mind.

Traffic sucks, especially crossing the river, over into the other part of town. This bridge always makes me nervous, has since I've been able to drive. I used to hold my breath every time I went over it. Now, I grip the steering wheel and make it my bitch.

Together, we sing along to a song we both like on the radio, and as I turn into the parking lot of the center that holds the Companion Program, I'm greeted with a sight I'm not expecting.

"He's here Mom!" Erza informs me from the back seat.

So he is. Oh. My. God. It's a good thing I didn't see him arrive yesterday. Acnologia Belserion sits astride a matte black Harley, a cell phone to his ear, as he has a lively conversation with someone on the other end. I can tell because he's gesturing with his hands, the sunlight catching the lenses of the aviators he's wearing as he moves his head back and forth. The weather cooled overnight, and he's dressed for it. A beanie on his head, a black leather jacket over his body, and blue jeans with just the right amount of room cover his legs. I let my gaze travel down to the motorcycle boots he wears on his feet. They look like they could stomp a hole in someone. The whole picture he paints is lickable.

" _But you don't need a man, and you don't want a man,"_ my independent voice from deep in my brain reminds me.

I blindly tell that voice to shut the fuck up. My body knows what it wants because it's responding.

"You two need help?" he asks as I get out of the car and go back to help Erza out.

"We got it." We always do. There hasn't been anyone around to help in a very long time.

He gets off the bike, and I have to bite back a moan as he approaches us. Where he's obviously ridden the crap out of the bike, his pants are well-worn at the crotch.

"You okay?" he asks.

I hope he can't tell what I'm thinking, and I really hope I didn't make any noises.

"Great, you ready to go inside?" I fake an excitement I'm not feeling. "Layla said we could use the room today."

"Sounds good," he nods. "How's it going, Sprite?" he asks Erza.

I grin because I've always thought she was a little fairy myself.

She looks up at him with her eyebrows drawn. "Yeah, but I don't have anything to drink."

I laugh loudly, as does he. From the mouth of babes.

"It means a fairy," he explains. "You know you looked like one yesterday, with your skirt."

"It's a tutu," she corrects. The word is serious in her world. You must get it right.

"I'm sorry," he puts his hand over his heart. "Your tutu."

She glances up at him, reaching for his hand, which surprises me.

"They're clean today," Erza observes, seeing no traces of grease in his nails today.

"Told you I'd have it together today," he reaches in his jacket and hands something to her.

"You shouldn't have brought her anything," I don't want him to give her false hope.

"Nah," he pushes away the protest as we enter the same room we were in yesterday. "It's something we can do together."

She opens the bag, her eyes bright. "Mom, it's a Tinkerbell coloring book!"

"They're her favorite," I glance at him, wondering how in the hell he could have known that.

"Lucky guess," he shrugs and I believe him. Lord help me, I believe him.

"Why don't you pick out a page for you and Mr. Belserion to color, and I'll sit over there and read my book," I hold up my Kindle.

"Call me Acnologia," it's meant for both of us. "Mr. Belserion is too formal."

"Ack-n-ol-ge…" My baby struggles, she is so cute, I'm gonna cry, I thank the gods for giving my daughter. "That's a handful, Mister." She complains with a cute pout. "I'll call you Acky." And I see Acnologia, with a ridiculous face.

I can't help the puff of air that comes out of my mouth from a laugh I tried to hold in. "Either way, I'll be right over there. Just pretend I'm not even here."

* * *

Acnologia

Pretend she's not there? I'd have to be blind to even attempt it. She ogled my dick like she was a starving woman in a desert earlier but she made no move toward me, and I appreciate the restraint. I still feel the same pull she had on me yesterday, but I've promised myself this is about the hours I need to serve and the child I'm going to help. That doesn't mean I don't notice what a beautiful woman she is and I can ignore the obvious interest that sparks when she thinks I'm not looking.

I pull out the chair for Erza to have seat. She climbs on, sitting up on her knees so she can easily see over the edge of the table.

"Which page do you want to color?" I grab the box of crayons. They're small in my big hands, and it reminds me I need to be careful with this little girl. People like me can easily break others if we aren't mindful.

"You do this one," she tears out a page, putting in front of me. "I'll do this one."

She pulls her lip in between her teeth and looks back at her mom, who's not paying us any attention. I like that; even though Irene's there, she's letting me have time with her daughter.

"Do you think we should ask Mom?"

"Nah," I shake my head. More than likely Irene doesn't get much time to do what she wants by herself and she truly looks as if she's comfortable. "We can do this ourselves."

She nods and sets forth coloring her page. I want to ask questions but I don't want to make either of them uncomfortable, so I start with the basics.

"Do you go to school?" I find myself shading the hair of a fairy, much like I'd shade the pin striping on a bike. What the fuck is wrong with this picture? How did a guy like me, who works with his hands and seen some of the shittiest sides of life end up here? Coloring a picture with a six-year-old?

"Yeah, I'm in the first grade," she holds her tongue in between her teeth as she colors. "How old are you?" she asks.

So this is how it's going to be? Question for a question. I like that she's inquisitive and she's not willing to just let me take and keep the lead.

"Twenty-nine," I answer, wrinkling my nose. "I'm old."

"That's how old mom is, that means she's old, too."

From where she's sitting, I hear Irene. "Hey, age is only as old as you feel."

"Well then I feel much older than my years."

We're quiet for a few minutes before Erza speaks again. "My dad's older than you and Mom."

"Is that right? How old is he, Sprite?"

There's an edge to her voice, like she's trying to tell me something important, but I'm not sure what it is.

"He's thirty-seven," she says with such clarity it strikes me as odd. "He went through a mid-life crisis at thiry-five and he didn't want us anymore."

I stop coloring, because I'm sure she's heard her mom talking about this to others. I don't blame Irene because it sounds like the guy is a dick, but my heart breaks for the way Erza's face has changed. I reach over and lightly grasp her chin. She pulls away from me, but I don't take it to heart. She's not trusting, and I'm okay with that.

"Hey, that's his loss. If he hadn't been so stupid, I wouldn't be sitting here spending one of the coolest days of my life coloring with you. Now would I?"

The words seem to put her at ease, and five minutes later, we're coloring again like we have no cares in the world. I, however, have a ton of questions about the man who broke this little girl's heart.

* * *

Yay, more reviews, follows, and favorites! Thank you new reviewers, naes151. xLetal, and ERJasandrea13!

ERJasandrea13: It's great to know I am not the only one. I am so happy. *cries a river*

Thank you, please continue your support!

Leave a Review!


	5. A Scarlet Sky

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

5

Acnologia

"Zeref," I sigh, running a hand over my unshaven face. "I've worked with you more than any other motherfucker who brought their bike in here to me without the money to pay for the work I did. I've cut you deal after deal."

He rolls his eyes at me. Rolls his eyes. This little shit standing in front of me is about to feel the wrath of my anger. If it wasn't for his mom, he would have felt the wrath two weeks ago when I started working on his damn bike. He's wearing his poker emo face expression, and it annoys the hell out of me. Smartass dick. His mother told me that he is 'genius', genius my ass. He got dropped out of college because he is just too smart than his professors, made him a lot of enemies. What made it worse, he does not go home, he's brother had been a sickly kid, and he can't stand seeing his beloved brother weak. Now he is in a rebellious façade piece of shit who actually has a weeny heart, who dares give me problems! That's the kind of person I'm dealing with here.

"Dude," he starts.

"First of all, I'm not your dude," I rise to my full height, squaring my shoulders. I see he's mistaken my kindness for weakness. I'll make sure he doesn't again. "Second of all, I'm doing this shit as a favor to your mom because we've known each other since we were kids. If she knew what a shit you've been to me about payment, she'd probably knock your snot-nosed eighteen-year-old ass out. I'm gonna save her having to deal with you and do it myself."

"Hey," he holds his hands up in front of him, with poker emo face, as he retreats. Fuck that face annoys the hell out of me.

Wanting to appear calm, I deceptively cross my arms across my chest and lean against the wall like I got all day. "Now, I think you realize the severity of the situation. I cut you a fucking deal for the work I did, and you disrespect me like this? I want my money tomorrow, Z. I know you have it." He's dealing dime bags to every high schooler within a five-mile radius. I'm not saying he's rollin' in the dough, but he's got enough to give me my five hundred that I'm owed.

"What if I don't?" he asks, his black eyes bright, cocky ass smirk on his face. He's turned around, taking his bike with him, walking out of the open garage door.

This kid thinks he can play me? "If you don't, you know how to get it. Don't mistake me for a dumbass. I was fourteen when I did my first stint in juvie. I'm not playing around with you. You're an adult who needs to take care of his own business."

"Aren't you on probation?" he throws over his shoulder as he takes a seat on the bike.

"That's your parting shot? It's none of your damn business and makes no difference when it comes to our situation. I want my money tomorrow," I yell, making sure he can hear me.

I watch as he leaves, letting out a deep breath, willing my shoulders to relax. Never has a kid not old enough to buy alcohol pissed me off so badly. God, kids today. If my kid ever talked to me like that, I'd show him a thing or two about respect. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I text Zeref's mom, letting her know if he doesn't pay me tomorrow, I'm going to teach him a lesson.

A: I won't hurt him.

She texts back quickly.

Mrs. Dragneel: I know, I just don't know how to handle him anymore.

There are a million things I can say, but I don't. I want nothing to do with the cocky little prick. He reminds me too much of me, and some days, I can't even deal with myself. I'm too pissed to even finish the job I'm working on. Instead of taking my anger out on parts that'll cost me money, I decide to close down for the night. As I shut up the shop, I wonder how Irene would handle the situation if Erza had been such a brat.

Easy, I don't think either of them would be in this situation. I back my bike out of the garage with my feet on the ground. I haven't gotten to take a pleasure ride in at least a week because I've been so backed up. It's time. I need a release of some sort, and this is the lesser of all evils. If I ride the bike, I don't have to wake up with it in the morning, with it expecting breakfast. If I ride a woman, she's gonna look too deeply into it.

As I turn towards the bridge, my breath catches. The sun is setting over the river, making the backdrop of the city a gorgeous painting. These are the views I'll miss if I don't man up and do my hours.

Erza would love this. The thought comes out of nowhere. But the way she'd colored those pictures? She definitely loves colorful stuff, and I have no doubt she'd enjoy the way the orange is melting behind the buildings, actually, not orange, the sky appears more like scarlet. How ironic, just like her hair. On impulse, I pull over, reach into my jacket and grab my phone. I tell myself I'm taking the picture for me, but I'm taking it for her too. I also wish Irene gets the chance to look up in the sky during this time of the day, and just forget the world, and admire this. Ah, what a beautiful scarlet sky. Fuck, what I am thinking, why am thinking of the mama bear?

I sighed. But more resolute than ever, I tell myself I'm never going to miss a view again.

* * *

Irene

We should have been home two hours ago, but errands for the Etsy shop have eaten up my evening. I must have been featured on a blog, or Instagram...something, because I picked up fifteen orders last night. When stuff like this happens, I wish I could figure out why because I'd love to make it consistent each month, instead of the feast or famine.

I squint against the sun setting over the river, pushing the visor down as far as I can. The low-lying rays are reflecting off the metal of the bridge, and I'm reminded why I hate to make the journey, this very time of day.

"Mom?" Erza quietly questions from the back seat. "I'm hungry."

Glancing at the clock, I see it's going on seven. Her damn bedtime is eight. How am I supposed to make this work? There are never enough hours in the day, never enough days in the week, and by the time the month is over, I wonder what the hell's happened to all the things I was going to do on my to-do list. "I know you are, I'm so sorry, sweetheart. We'll get home as soon as we can. It's been a busy day for the both of us, huh?"

I feel like a shitty mom because inevitably she comes second to making money, and I come a much distant third to the previous two. Risking a look back at her, I take my eyes off the road for a millisecond. The amount of time so tiny, it shouldn't even matter in the grand scheme of things.

But it does. It always does with me.

I don't see the board in the middle of the road until I hit it, and the car bumps against the hard asphalt. Immediately, I feel the pressure of my tire go down in the right rear passenger side.

"Shit," I grip the steering wheel tightly as the car swerves. A car honks in the opposite lane as I fight to straighten it out. We're not off the bridge yet, and I send a little prayer up to let us please get to safety across the river. There's no place for us to go if I can't get us off the four lanes that span the water. No shoulder, no emergency lane, and we'll be sitting ducks to anyone behind us that's not paying attention to what's happened.

We have less than ten feet to go, and I'm coaxing the car to the right lane, with my hazards on, gritting my teeth and gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles are white. Tension seeps into my shoulders and I already feel a headache behind my eyes. This is not at all how I planned the night to go.

"Mom?"

I can hear the fear in her voice, make out the shakiness and it kills me. I hate when she's scared, when I can't make things alright for her. Inhaling deeply, I press the accelerator, hoping like hell we can make the exit and then coast down to the shoulder.

"We're good, Erza. Things are fine."

I'm such a fucking liar. Even my choice of words, betray me. I usually call my daughter by her name if I am dead serious, disciplinarian, and when I am…scared. Truth is, I don't think I have a spare. Things are definitely not fine. When we finally make it down the exit, and I'm able to coast it to the shoulder, I take a second, leaning my head against the steering wheel.

I wanna cry, but crying's never helped anything in the past. I wanna get angry because I don't know how to change a damn tire, but again anger won't help anybody. I'm doing my best to control my breathing and not lose my mind at the situation that's been dropped at my feet tonight.

"Mom!" Her tiny voice is urgent now.

"One second Erza." I need to get my shit together. My hands and legs are shaking, my teeth are clenched.

"Look!" The urgency is back as she tries to get my attention.

When I hear the knock on my window, I scream, not expecting anyone to stop to help us.

"I've been trying to tell you," Erza informs me.

I turn my head, and I can't believe the person standing on the other side of the glass. Looks like Acnologia Belserion came to our rescue.

* * *

Author's Notes

Have you seen Chapter 524? It was the worst! I can't believe Acnologia just did that to Irene. I can't even say the words. It was terrible. I am so hurt and disappointed of Mashima right now. As if Irene had not suffered enough.

ERJasandrea13 and to other Acnorene shippers: I don't know what to right now. So our ship just sunk.

I still wish for a miracle. Heck, Irene deserves all the love in the world! She is even an epitomy of a strong and admirable woman. She was corrupted by her own people. And even after everything she had been through, she still loves her daughter. She gave Erza her best chance! Because she knows she'll lose it, and she might hurt her daughter. I can't believe Mashima could destroy a woman, a mother. As if her death, and Erza not being empathic enough to recognize her as a 'parent' and somehow doesn't care about her, she even made Acnologia destroy her body. I'm sorry, but this doesn't make any sense to me. I am so disappointed and angry.

diegokpo30: I don't understand, Spanish, so I relied on Google translate. Thank you, I appreciate your review. Though I am not sure if Acnorene still is pursuable.

To other readers:  
Thank you for following and supporting this story. But honestly, I don't know if I could still continue this story adaptation. I just cringe, after what Acnologia did to Irene in Chapter 524. Acnologia is just too opposite in this story. I was thinking that here, he would have this kind of redeeming himself, but seeing how sadist he is, it's just shit.

Please review and tell me your thoughts if you still want to this fic to continue not, as well as on FT Chapter 524!

Today has no beautiful scarlet sky. :(


	6. Spare Tires and Fast Food

I do not own anything.  
Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

6

Irene

Pushing the button to roll the window down, I try not to weep as I realize who's stopped to help us. At least it's not a stranger – not that we know Acnologia any better than one – but it's a familiar face. My hands shake as I brace them against the steering wheel, trying to calm my galloping heart. If I still had those Xanax I used to take when the careful life I'd planned for myself had spiraled out of control, I'd pop one of those things in a fucking nanosecond right now.

"Hey," I fake a bravado I don't have. I'm two seconds away from crumbling into a sobbing ball of mush. Everything inside of me wishes stuff like this doesn't bother me, that I'm able to take care of incidentals like this on my own. The truth is I can't, and I don't know I'll ever be able to. But for the last two years there's been no one for me to lean on or ask for help. The fact he's here right now, means way more to me than it should.

"You okay?" he asks, taking his glasses off his face. His green eyes roam the car, check me out, and then flash to the backseat where Erza sits.

"Scared the crap out of me," I admit, because I still can't stop my hands from shaking and my voice trembling gives me a way.

He leans in putting his hand over mine. "Scared me, too. I was behind you in traffic when I saw you hit the debris. You did a good job keeping it straight."

My gaze moves down to where he's touched me. I absorb the strength in his grasp, letting it wash through me, taking away the shakes. A zip of electricity shoots all the way from my fingers down my arm and to my belly. Whenever my ex-husband would touch me, it was nothing like this. It was cold, calculated, and designed to hold me under his control. This is warm and reassuring. Now I'm breathing deeply for another reason, trying to make my heart regulate.

Turning my attention to the words he spoke, I try not to let my face broadcast the emotions going through me right now. The praise makes me feel better about our situation and I don't want to admit his recognition of my ability to handle emergencies makes me happy. However, I'm still unsure if I want to give anyone the ability to make me happy or sad ever again.

"Thanks," I clear my throat and cut my eyes to where he still has his hand over mine.

"Your hands are so cold," he mumbles, prying my fingers off the wheel and holding them between his two palms.

It's reaction and shock setting in. I know because I've been here before. The minute I got the divorce papers, I'd shivered and been almost as cold as I am right now. Instead of trying to stop his trying to warm me up, I let him continue. It's nice to feel the warm skin of another human being.

"You okay?" he throws a look into the back seat at Erza, for the first time acknowledging her.

"I'm hungry," she complains as she sighs.

Great, just great.

* * *

Acnologia

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the chuckle to myself. Right now, I'm not sure Irene can handle it, but damn if Erza isn't a fucking breath of fresh air.

"You are, huh?"

She nods, and it looks like she wants to say more, but she's holding her tongue. Is she quiet because she's been taught not to speak her mind, or is she worried about how her mom will react? Both thoughts run parallel in my head, and I eventually tell her what I'm thinking, because no kid should have to censor themselves – at least not in my presence.

"Mom had errands to run, and we ran out of time," she supplies as I glance back at her.

"Is that right?" I'm holding back another laugh as I take in her mom.

I looked at Irene the day we met, but I'm seeing her in a whole different light now. That day, she was calm, cool, put together, and the epitome of a single mother who had all her shit straight. What I'm seeing now, isn't that persona at all. Tonight, here on the side of the road, I feel like I'm getting the real person. Her cheeks are red. Embarrassment? Anger? Irritation? There's no way to know without asking her.

"Sprite back there gonna get in trouble because she's speaking her mind?" I indicate Erza with a tilt of my head, my gaze directed on Irene.

Her eyes flash with anger and irritation. "Let me out of the car," she pulls the words from between her clenched jaws.

I let my hand slip away from hers, missing the connection as soon as it's severed. Opening the door for her, I usher her around to the side of the car that's not beside the busy intersection.

"How dare you question if my child is going to get in trouble for speaking her mind."

She lays into me, and damned it all if she's not sexy as hell while reading me the riot act.

"I don't know you," I remind her. We've known each other for a total of two days.

"Exactly, you don't know me. So I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that most of the women you spend your time with aren't of the hearth and home variety."

The assumption pisses me off, but I'm willing to give her one. "Your face was red and it looked like you wanted to say something, thought you gonna reprimand her" I explain. I've spent a lot of years reading people's emotions and anticipating what their next moves will be. It's how I stayed alive and escaped a part of my past I don't care to relive.

She lowers her voice and steps closer to me, her eyes losing a bit of their fire. "Of course not! I was…" She sighs. "I-I'm embarrassed. It's going on seven o'clock, her bedtime is eight, and I haven't even gotten her dinner yet. We're stuck on the side of the road, and I can't change a tire to save my life. If you hadn't showed up, the fact is," she blows out a deep breath, "I'm not sure what I would do."

The fight's gone out of her, and with the loss of her anger, mine's gone, too. "I have no doubt you'd YouTube that shit, make it your bitch, and be on your merry way in under two hours."

The surprised look on her face is enough for me and when a giggle pushes past her throat, I feel a reaction in my body I haven't felt in too long. When Irene laughs, it's the sexiest, throatiest sound I've ever heard in my life. "Thanks for having so much faith in me."

"Somebody's got to."

She takes a deep breath and before she can say anything else, I hold my hand out. "Keys please. Do you have a spare?"

"I don't know," she shrugs her shoulders, biting her lip. "I've never had to know before."

I take my jacket off, putting it in the back with Erza. "Keep that safe for me," I wink at her, as I put it over her legs. The temps are dropping and it doesn't look like these two were prepared for it. I stand to my full height and shut the door before turning to the trunk.

"First lesson is know what you have in your car at all times. You need some sort of emergency kit, especially with you two going over the bridge like you do. Thank God this isn't the winter, but it's fast approaching," she's nodding, and I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds.

She helps me clear away all the bags in the trunk.

"Did you buy out the whole craft store?"

"It's for my online business," she explains as she puts them in the backseat, next to Erza. "Don't peek," she tells her daughter. "These aren't for you to play with."

"You'll have to tell me about that sometime. Maybe as small business owners, we could help each other out."

"I thought you were a mechanic," she questions. The tone isn't accusing but there's a level of distrust anyone would be able to hear.

"I own the shop," I lift up the flap in the trunk leading to the wheel well where most spares are and grin. "You have a donut at least."

"Thank God," she breathes.

"We'll save that lesson for tomorrow. C'mon by the shop and I'll put a new tire on for you."

"You don't have to," she argues, shaking her head.

"No, I want to teach you how to do it just in case something like this happens again. Every single woman needs to know the basics, and if someone else didn't teach you, then I'm going to."

She's biting her lip and shuffling her feet. It's obvious what I've said makes her uncomfortable. But if there's one thing I do know about women who are mama bears, it's that you can combat their stubbornness by bringing their kids into the equation. It's probably the only thing I've learned about women, besides how to please them.

"Don't you want to see what kind of a shop I run? I mean, I'm influencing your daughter. I'll be spending a lot of time with her," I remind her, fighting a smile at the way she makes me work for everything.

"Okay," she relents. "I work a short shift tomorrow and I have a three-hour window before I have to go pick her up from school. Will that be long enough to teach me the basics?"

"We'll make it work," I go to work getting the donut put on.

Within the hour, I'm helping her put all her stuff back in the trunk.

"Thank you." She's standing beside of me, her arms tightly around her chest, her teeth lightly chattering. Even shivering her tone is appreciative.

It's not hard for her to say the words, and I appreciate that. Sometimes giving someone thanks is the hardest part, but Irene seems to have that under control. Maybe it's the help she's not used to. It's gotten dark, and I feel a responsibility maybe I shouldn't feel.

"Look, no bullshit," I tell her quietly. "Get in the car and I'll follow you two home. I want to make sure you get there okay. This isn't exactly the best part of town."

Now that the sun's gone down, there are people on street corners, sounds of mischief make their way to us. As I say the words, I flinch when I hear glass break not far from us. I don't feel comfortable sending these two out into the night unprotected.

"I'm going to stop and grab some food, wake her up, and make sure she eats something. If you don't mind getting behind us in the drive thru and letting me pay for your meal, I'd love it if you'd be our escort," she grins.

"Sure thing," I reach into the back seat and grab my jacket from around Erza' legs. She's conked out, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. "I'll follow you," I jog back to my bike and hop on.

Never, in the forty-five minutes it takes us to get to her apartment building, do I let those taillights out of my sight. She waves as she grabs Erza out of her car seat. Erza wraps her hands around her mother's neck and rested her head in her mom's shoulders.

"Mommy, sw-leepy."

"We're almost there, cheesecake." She says as she kisses her daughter's head.

I smiled a warm smile as I watch the mother-daughter moment in their parking lot.

"Need help with all that stuff in there?" I point to the trunk, remembering all the bags she had.

"Thanks, but I'll grab it tomorrow. Enjoy your burger," she grins. "And thanks for helping us tonight."

"No problem," I watch until their upstairs and safely in their apartment before I turn my bike around and head towards the shop.

Never has an evening consisting of changing a tire and a bag of cold fast food made me feel the sense of peace I have right now. Like everything else, I know it probably won't last.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

So I decided to continue the story. My justification is that IRENE NEEDS TO BE TREATED WELL. I HOPE THIS STORY WILL SOMEHOW GIVE JUSTICE TO HER CHARACTER. I KNOW THIS DOESN'T HAVE ANY EFFECT, BUT AT LEAST SHE GETS SOME RESPECT EVEN IN A FANFIC. I STILL HATE ACNOLOGIA FOR STOMPING HER BODY BUT DAMN SHT. I STILL CAN'T HELP BUT SHIP THEM IN THIS STORY. IT WAS STARTED BEFORE THE STOMPING SCENE SO I DIDN'T REALLY KNOW.

Just to share, my ship always sunk. First one was Ichiruki, but we all know that it ended up as Ichihime (that I am still disappointed about). Another is, Shikaino, as my username implies, but we all know it was Shikatema and Inosai, I am okay with it though, because of their cute kids. And here, ACNORENE, though it's a crack ship. And FT semi-canon couples - Jerza, especially.

Anyways, I hope their personality will be incorporated in this story. I'll look for an angle to deliver properly Acno's "sadism" or "anger-management issues", there are some parts in the previous chapters though. Also, Irene's cockiness, but in here, she is still feeling the impact of her divorce, and her focus is being a single mom to support her child, so it isn't visible yet. She truly deeply loves Erza here. Mama bear as she is. And I also want to incorporate Erza's stubbornness, that is difficult as she is still a child here, but she adores her mom as well (that isn't shown by Mashima).

THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!

naes151: yeah, he is a devil's incarnate, and I also thought he was once a good person. I don't want to expect anymore.  
Pi pi m: I totally agree, even just respect. Mashima has been treating her female characters like trash sometimes, and fanservice most times. :(  
Nyx Necro: It's nice to know someone also writes about Irene. There are too few fanfiction written about her.  
Zorkan: Thank you so much!  
ErJasandrea13: Yes! Let us still ship them as the king and queen as they are.  
inspirepromt3.3: Oh, more TLC they will be getting in the future. I assure you.  
freakingmanga181: Thank you. He won't be good sometimes. ;) Kidding.

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	7. A Lesson for Car and Heart Maintenance

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe for the original story where this one is adapted.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

7

Irene

My nerves are shot, completely and totally raw and jagged. I haven't been this nervous in years, probably not since the day I walked down the aisle and joined my life with another person. And we all know how that turned out. My GPS flashes the five-minute warning at me. I'm really close to Acnologia's shop.

I haven't been paying much attention since I turned onto the maze of downtown streets, but quickly I realize I'm in a much more blue-collar neighborhood. Things are well taken care of but there's still a tarnish of age and use on them that comes with doing manual labor.

Glancing down at the GPS, I check the number and commit it to memory. Buildings are so close together here it's going to be easy for me to pass it if I'm not paying attention. I'm not entirely sure if I could get back here by myself again, and pulling over to start the GPS again is a no-go for me. Slowing to a crawl, I gaze into my rearview mirror, glad no one's behind me and look for building 777.

When I find it, I'm pleasantly surprised to see it looks well maintained. Seems like so far he takes pride in two things: his bike and his shop. There isn't much room for me to park, but I manage to parallel park decently enough that I don't embarrass myself.

I check the time before turning the car off. I'm a little early, but I'd always rather be early than late. Slipping my purse strap over my shoulder, I get out and do my best to walk like I have some confidence about myself. As I approach, Acnologia walks out, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Hey," the smile he gives me does weird things to my stomach. That feeling you get when you go down the first hill of a roller coaster? Yeah, that's set up shop in the bottom regions of my belly.

"Hi," I answer shyly. "I wasn't sure where you wanted me to park, so I got as close as I could." Rambling when I'm nervous is a bad habit, one I've tried to break, but never been able to.

"It's okay, I can pull the car into the bay for you."

He's holding his hand out, and for a split second the thought crosses my mind to grab it and hold on for dear life. Shaking my head to clear that stupid thought, I reach into my bag and fish out my keys, handing them over. "I really appreciate this."

"It's not a problem. I'd rather you know what you're doing than be stuck out on the road waiting for someone to help you. What if it hadn't been me who pulled in behind you last night?"

The thought had crossed my mind over and over as I laid awake in bed last night. Once my body had warmed and the shock had worn off, I'd realized how lucky we were he had stopped. He didn't have to, and the fact he did, said a lot about his character.

"Trust me, I've thought about it."

His gaze bores into mine, green eyes, looking deeply, full lips pursed to say something, as if reading me bare, but then he shuts off and withdraws. He doesn't pressure me or ask any questions, just closes his fist around the keys. "Go ahead and head on in, I'll be there in a sec."

Thankful for the opportunity to get away from his gaze that probably saw way too much, I quickly walk into the shop. The smell of motor oil and gas hits me almost immediately, and I sneeze, not used to the magnitude with which they permeate my senses. Glancing around, I realize the inside looks just as good as the outside. He is a man who takes great pride in what he does for a living. Before I can take in any more, I see my car coming towards me and laugh at the picture he makes behind the wheel.

"It's like a fucking sardine can," he grumbles as he gets out, tossing me the keys.

"Perfect for me," I argue, a good natured smiled on my face.

"Yeah, but you're like almost half a foot shorter than me."

"I'm five-nine," I sniff, tilting my chin up at him. "I'm tall, but you're just taller, and too… huge." I realize too late how wrong that adjective sounds. His posture stiffened, so I smile a sly one, trying to be cocky.

"Oh yeah, I'm huge." He winks in reply. "Six-four, so don't get your panties in a wad. I was almost right, midget."

The banter is unusual. I never had it with my ex-husband, and honestly I'm not sure how to respond, so I don't. When I don't speak again, he gives me an inquisitive look.

"Did I piss you off?"

He's blunt, asks what he wants to know the answers to. I'm so not used to it.

"No, I'm just not sure how to take you," I admit, running a hand through my hair. When my fingers snag on a tangle, I make a great show of trying to smooth it out. "I'm way out of practice when it comes to men."

"I'm out of practice when it comes to women, so we're even."

There's a thought that runs through my head, and I decide to say it, because it's so unlike me. "I have a feeling you have no issues when it comes to women, so thanks for trying to make me feel better."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm out of practice when it comes to women like you – not even sure I've ever had one like you."

I open my mouth, shut it, and decide maybe it's time not to ask any more questions.

* * *

Acnologia

Her face is bright red as she turns away from me, acting absolutely infatuated with the wrenches hanging on my wall. She has no fucking idea what they do, but it's so damn cute as she walks over and starts looking at the different sizes, I have to chuckle. This one is more skittish than a newborn foal, and I need to remember that.

"So, do you wanna learn the basics?" I clear my throat, damned if I'm not hoarse. Verbal sparring has never affected me this way, but I do love to see her eyes light up.

"Yup, teach me all your ways," she turns around, takes her purse off, and puts it on the workbench I have set up. I want to teach her every way I have, but I remind myself she isn't that kind of woman and this sure as hell isn't that kind of situation.

"All right, there's three things you absolutely need to know," I count off on my fingers. "How to check your oil and top it off, how to check your coolant and top it off, and how to change a tire."

"Got it," she nods.

"But first, we've got to do something about your clothes," I frown.

"What's wrong with them? I don't have anything else to change into."

Visions of her in nothing but her bra and panties in my shop are dancing through my head. Yeah, I immediately go there. I'm a fucking asshole. "You can't wear that." The top is lacey, and the pants, while black, look like they're dressy, and I don't want her to ruin them. Something tells me, money isn't easy for her to come by.

"What am I supposed to wear then?"

"I have a pair of coveralls in my office that should fit you. They're older and they've shrunk so they shouldn't be too bad. Be back in just a sec."

My office is my dirty little secret because it's a pigsty. I never let anyone go in here. It's a wonder I keep the lights on since I can't tell you the last time I actually saw a bill. Grabbing the extra pair of coveralls I keep there, I jog back out into the main room of the shop.

"Here, put these on," I hold them up to her. They're too big but at least they'll protect her clothes. The last thing I need is to feel guilty because I ruined work clothing for her.

She gives me a scared look but unzips them and puts them on one leg at a time. When she's done, she zips up and glances at me. "I feel like that little kid from A Christmas Story," she wrinkles her nose.

"You kinda do look like him," I grin, because damned if she doesn't make things fun. I'm not used to talking this much in a day, forget less than thirty minutes since she showed up. I forgot how much I missed it – the companionship and the feeling of having someone else around in your personal space. For so long I haven't wanted it, but it looks like today Acnologia Belserion is getting a lesson on loneliness. Something I never felt before a beautiful, scarlet-haired mom came barreling into my shop.

* * *

"Like this?" she asks as she runs the oil stick through the rag like I showed her earlier.

It's become glaringly obvious I've been too long without either the companionship of my hand or the feel of a real live woman. I swear I can I feel the sliding motion of her pulling the stick through, and the grip of her hand, all the way down to my dick. When did car maintenance become a turn on?

I move closer to make sure she's gotten everything off the indicator and inadvertently press into her back. Her quick intake of breath tells me she feels my reaction. I'm not sorry, she's a beautiful woman and I'm a hot-blooded man, but I don't want her to feel uncomfortable. I clear my throat and push back from her. "Just like that."

She doesn't stiffen as I move away, but her cheeks are flushed when she turns around to face me. "Thanks for helping me today," her voice is soft. "I wish there was something I could do to repay you."

My body has a few ideas of its own, but I've never been that kind of guy. "You having at least a little bit of knowledge is good enough for me. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

Let's just talk about the elephant in the room.

"You didn't," she admits, her eyes darker than I've seen them. "I've not gotten that kind of reaction out of a man in a long time. Honestly, I'm flattered. We both know it can't go anywhere, so I'll take it for the compliment it is," her lips tilt as she walks over to her purse and checks her phone.

We've changed her tire, done the coolant thing, and obviously she knows how to check her oil now. There's not much else for me to teach her.

"I have to pick Erza up in about forty-five minutes, so I should be heading out."

My mind doesn't register she's taking her coveralls off as she walks towards my office. "I'll just stick these in here."

"No!" I yell, but she's already got the door open and the light on.

"Oh. My. God." She stands with her hand covering her mouth. "What is this?"

I'm behind her, trying to see it from her eyes. There's a mountain of paperwork on the desk, one of the filing cabinets has a door halfway open with paper sticking out, there's shit on the fax machine that very well may have been there during, and I'm pretty sure there's a half-eaten sandwich on one of the shelving units that's growing penicillin. This is damn embarrassing.

She turns to face me, and I step back, scrunching my face up and rubbing my neck. "My office?"

"I'm glad you're questioning it too because I thought maybe it was a landfill. How in the hell do you get anything accomplished in there?" Her tone seesaws between amused and the voice all mothers have when they disapprove of what you're doing.

"I don't?" I'm questioning myself again. She's turned full-on "mother mode" on me and I'm not gonna lie – I'm scared to say the wrong thing.

"Acnologia," Her tone reeks of disappointment. "You have to take your business seriously. It's your livelihood," she's quiet for a moment and then a huge smile breaks across her face. "I know! You helped me with my car, I can help you with your office. It's kind of what I do. Planning and organizing."

She looks like she really wants to help me, and if she does, who am I to tell her no? I mean, obviously I need all the help I can get in this portion of my life. "Sure, when are you available again?"

"This time next week? I always work half-days on Thursday. Is that okay for you?"

It's embarrassing to say I have absolutely zero going on in my life, so I play it cool. "I'll be sure to be here."

"Awesome, I'm glad I can help. Do you mind if I take pics of before and after? I promise not to tell anyone who belongs to the mess. It would really help my portfolio."

Apparently I'm powerless to say no at this point. "Sure, swing by next Thursday, and I'll let you do what you feel like you have to. Anything's better than what's going on in there right now."

"Good," she grabs her purse, putting it over her shoulder. "So I'll see you Saturday? We're still meeting, right?"

I hadn't forgotten about my hours with Erza. "Do you still want to meet at the center? I mean you spent," I check my phone, "almost three hours here with me today. Do you trust us to go somewhere else?"

She tilts her head to the side, and seems to think about it for a few minutes. "There's the small business festival downtown. They have inflatables and stuff for kids. Would that be too much for you?"

I've never, in my life, done anything like what she's describing at all but I'm willing to. "What time?"

"We'll meet you there around ten. Let me get your number and I'll text you when we get there."

My fingers are fumbling on my phone as I exchange numbers with her. When did I turn into a teenager hot for his first date? "There," I save the contact. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

"Thanks again," she waves. "I promise your office will look amazing when I'm done with it."

"I have no doubt," I watch as she gets in her car and backs out. And I truly do have no doubt. I watch until I can't see her anymore on the street. The silence is almost deafening as I realize how nice it was to have someone here for a change.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

No cute baby Erza in this chapter. Gihihi. What do you think of this pure Acnorene chap?

Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites. I really do appreciate them. Please continue your support!

naes151: Here's the 'teaching' part. Hope you liked it. Zeref will turn up again, but that's far to go.  
Zorkan: Thank you so much. I noticed that this is the only Acnorene fic here. The ship is not too popular. Woops, I cn't spoil that much. But we'll see that damn of a husband, for sure.  
freakingmanga181: Hi. I'm glad to help. The easiest way is to make a google account and link it here. Can't agree more for the mother-daughter moment. As for Acno, well no one is 'absolute' good. ;)

Leave a review!  
I am reaching for quota reviews for new readers, even at least two for a new update. :)


	8. We Do Facebook, Too

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

8

Irene

My shoulders are tight and my eyes sting when I close them. My fingers curve into my palms as I resist the urge to rub them. I've been told it's the worst thing I can do, but God it feels so good.

I need some of those liquid tears, or whatever, the eye doctor keeps telling me about. I'm pretty sure those things are made out of unicorn tears, though, because of how much my copay is for them. When they told me the price, I said forget it, but damn my eyes hurt. Maybe after the sale I'm having for Halloween I'll be able to afford them, but until then I'm stuck with pushing through. Story of my life for the past few years.

Making the planner pages and the stickers all require me to be on the computer for a while. Add that to the time I'm on the computer at my day job and my eyes constantly hurt. Data entry is a freakin' bore, but it pays the majority of the bills right now. Maybe one day I'll be able to work from home full-time, but for right now, I'll have to remember to go get the eye drops I saw at the drug store. Glancing at the clock, I see it's almost two am. I don't even know how it got to be that late.

Maybe I'll be able to sleep a little later in the morning since it's Saturday, but I know my little girl. Erza gets up with the birds, and I honestly wouldn't have it any other way, but I'm tired. For once I wish I could sleep with no alarm clock and instead wake up when I'm ready to. It's been years since I've done that.

Deciding I've done enough for the night, I turn off everything and shut down my computer. A shower would feel amazing on my shoulders, but it would probably wake up Erza in our small apartment. Instead, I turn on the heating pad I have and lie down, welcoming the softness of my pillows and sheets. It takes the heating pad a minute or so to warm up, but when it does, I sigh, because the heat feels so good against my tight muscles. It's turned into the only thing that allows me to relax. Well, if I'm being honest, that and the sexual pleasure I sometimes give myself, but that's so goddamn empty.

I lie there for a few minutes, but my brain won't turn off. I think of all the pending orders I left in my Etsy store, what I need to do tomorrow to stay on schedule, the grocery shopping, and the cleaning that's backed up. I sigh as I turn over, fluffing my pillow. It's going to be one of those nights where I need to play a marathon of Candy Crush. I grab my phone and see that I have notifications on Facebook, so I open the app and notice a new friend request.

Clicking on it, I laugh to myself. Who knew that Acnologia Belserion bothered with Facebook? What the hell? Why not accept it? I don't have enough friends in my life. Most of them sided with my ex-husband in the divorce. Hell, who am I kidding? Most of them were his friends, not mine. I haven't had an identity of my own for a long time, but I'm doing my best to get it back, to find out exactly who the hell I am.

Immediately a private message pops up.

 _A: Working late?_

Talking to him isn't against any rules, and it's nice to talk to an adult once in a while – to have a conversation that's not about swallowing gum and what kind of lunch you want.

 _I: Yeah, just finished up and couldn't go to sleep. I was gonna play Candy Crush, but I had to log on to see what kind of loot people had sent me. It's my vice, what can I say?_

 _A: Let's call the police, you like to play Candy Crush to unwind._

I roll my eyes. He probably thinks I'm a stick in the mud and the most boring person he's ever encountered in his life.

 _I: Hands-on single mom here! This is the most possible and affordable leisure for me. Not all of us can probably have the life you do._

 _A: What exactly do you think my life is like?_

That's a good question. I don't have any idea because I haven't thought about anyone except me and Erza for a long time. Based on how good looking he is, I assume he's not hurting for female companionship.

 _I: I'm thinking you shut down after I left, you went to the local bar, grabbed dinner, and maybe came home with somebody to keep your bed warm. Isn't that what all single guys do?_

 _A: Oh sweetheart, I don't know if your ex just fucked you up that much or if you really aren't wise to the world._

There's a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I wonder if I've messed up. Did I assume too much? And I try to ignore the way his endearment runs right through me. It's a sign I've been too long without affection.

 _I: That's not your life?_

 _A: Far from it. I think maybe you've spent too much time thinking the grass is greener on the other side, or that ex-husband of yours is really just that much of an asshole. Why don't you try hanging out with me and learning who I am before you make generalizations?_

Now I'm embarrassed and I'm not sure how I'm going to face him in a few hours. I've always hated when people assumed things about me, now look what I'm doing with him? I'll definitely apologize when I see him tomorrow.

 _I: That sounds like a good idea. Will you let me start over? Maybe I did have some pre-conceived notions because of what happened to me in the past. I'm really sorry._

He's quiet for the longest time, and I wonder if he's going to say yes or no. Maybe he'll just say he doesn't want to put any effort into me, and I've just fucked this up for my daughter, too. Damn, well aren't I an amazing mother, my sarcastic voice speaks loudly in my head. Talk about disappointment? I'm feeling it in myself. The one thing I never should have done was assume, and I knew it.

 _A: Okay, I'm willing to start over if you tell me one thing._

I'm already nervous. I have a feeling what he wants to know and I hate telling people what happened with me and my ex-husband. It's embarrassing, and haven't I already been embarrassed enough tonight?

 _I: What?_

I'm positively holding my breath, waiting to see what he's going to ask. My chest is pumping up and down like I've run a marathon, and if this had been months ago I'd have already fallen into a panic attack.

 _A: What happened with your ex? Why are you so distrusting of men?_

How did I know he was going to ask these questions? It's like I walk around with a sign on my forehead, begging people to ask me to explain the demise of my marriage, the downfall of my life. It's better than it used to be, I know this, but it pisses me off just the same.

 _I: He was older than me, about seven years older, and he filled a spot in my life – I'm not gonna lie. I grew up without parents. Maybe that's what I was looking for, an older figure who will make me feel secure, I have no idea, but he ended up leaving for his younger-than-me secretary. It's still a sore subject. She's twenty-four and thinks kids are beneath her. Since Erza didn't serve a purpose for him anymore, he's let her go. He's never asked about her, doesn't call her, and pretty much forgets she exists. That's why I joined her up with this program. She needs a good male influence in her life. Otherwise she's going to grow up thinking all men are like her dad, and I don't want that for her._

There it is, I've laid it all out for him, made it so there's no mistaking why I've enrolled Erza into this program. Now he knows what I expect of him, how seriously I want him to take this job he's been entrusted with, and a part of me wonders if he'll run. Maybe I won't see him tomorrow. He'll probably stand us up. We're a group package, a tightly wrapped one, and maybe he doesn't want to open it and find out what's inside.

Not that I can blame him.

 _A: You've entrusted me with a pretty serious job, but I promise I'll do what I need to in order for her to understand not everyone is like her asshole of a dad. I don't have to worry about him coming back, do I?_

That's a scream. He didn't want us then, he's not going to want us now or in the future, and neither one of us would run back if he did. Both of us have been pretty damaged by the whole situation, if I'm being perfectly honest.

 _I: No, even if he did, there's no place in either one of our lives for him._

I've got to cut this conversation off, because it's getting too deep, he's asking too many questions, and he's making me want to ask them of him. He's making me wish I had other things that I'll more than likely never have again.

 _I: It's late._

I jump when the notification he's sent me another message comes through.

 _A: I'll see you in a few hours, try to get some sleep Irene._

 _I: You too, Acno. ;)_

 _A: Acno's nice._

As I see him turn messenger off, I realize talking about the situation Erza and I have been forced to endure wasn't as bad as it had once been. I was able to at least talk about it without tears falling, and even the anger I've been harboring wasn't there this time.

Maybe I'm finally getting over it the way everyone told me I would. It doesn't mean I'm ready to move on. I still need the security blanket of the anger, because without it, I'm afraid I'll make bad decision. Instead, I'll hang onto it, until it's ripped from my hands.

* * *

Acnologia

 _Irene Scarlet._

I grinned when I found her Facebook profile. I checked her profile photo and it is a selfie of her and Erza kissing her cheek. I was expecting a hot selfie though, she seems the vain type to flaunt her beauty - to lure men to her spell. But I guess, the mama bear side won. Well, I am satisfied with this one, it's like a warning sign for men to back-off since she has a child. They are like a package, get one, take one which works in my favor because no clear competition so far. What am I thinking? It's not like I'll avail the Scarlet package. This is just community service, soon that my hours are done, they'll be gone. Not that I care that much. I wanted to check for more photos, convincing myself, that I am doing this to get to know them better... for the community service. The rest of her profile is in private, so I clicked the friend request.

I went back to my profile page to check it, making sure my posts are presentable. I checked my profile photo, which is me posing on my black baby Harley. It was a hot shot for garnering ladies, and it has fulfilled its purpose in the likes and comments section. I wonder what Irene would think of my photo.

And since when did I fucking care of her opinion of me? Fuck it. Since she left the shop, this unfamiliar feeling of I loneliness had surfaced, and I can't focus on my work. That's when I decided to close the shop, heat some noodles for dinner, and damn this shit, I don't know why she keeps popping in my head, and I can't sleep. It's 2 am, and I can't sleep! That is how I ended with Facebook search.

I jumped when a notification appeared. She accepted my friend request. She's still awake, which only means one thing - she must be overworking herself. I sighed and messaged her, and my assumptions were right. We exchanged a conversation, and it makes me feel like a giddy teenage boy texting his girlfriend 'til early morning. This woman must be some kind of a witch, she must be hypnotizing me.

But shit gets real, when we talked about her ex-husband, which I pushed out from her. I'm curious afterall. The more I know more about them, the easier for me to do the community service, right? But if I ever get to see that asshole ex-husband of hers, I'll beat him up to a pulp. Great, just great, I'm on probation, and I'm thinking of violent stunts to do again.

I think I may have made Irene uncomfortable for asking though, she was the one who cut off the conversation. I don't know why I still wanted to talk to her, but I am considerate enough for her to get some sleep. She called me Acno, and it's nice, I felt really nice. The formalities were dropped, and I think we're not only partners in the companion program, but friends. And it's really nice.

I know I'll see them later, and I'm excited to see the Sprite too. But I can't help myself, after I signed out in messenger, I did a "professional" stalking of Irene's profile... for the community service, of course. And I'm pretty damn sure I went asleep with a stupid smile on my face.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

A chapter as promised! Yay! I got 3 reviews from new readers, 2 officially.

Thank you, Kimchimustard, and Patsuan, and Guest.

Kimchimustard: Thank you for giving this story a chance. I'm glad you liked it.  
Patsuan: Thanks. But more than family love, the story will also gear into romance. I hope you'll still support it when it comes to that point.  
Guest: Kawaii :)

To old readers:  
Pi pi m: Thank you still for the continuing support.  
naes151: I'm not sure if being cute is his character, too OOC in the original, but he seems to end up that way to me.  
diegokpo30: I love Acnorene too. Too bad, it's too opposite in the original.  
Zorkan: Thank you! Hoped you enjoy the update.  
freakingmanga181: This might be angsty later on. Yes! I am a Jerza fan! I have a Jerza one-shot "Smitten", you can check it out, there's Acnorene and Miraxus there too. :) Oh, and not really a teenager. Too close but not quite.

Leave a review!  
Don't hesitate to ask questions. If you're not comfortable in the review section, you can PM me too.  
I still have quota reviews, I'll update if I get at least a new reader review.  
In case you ask why I am doing that is to check if the story deserves to be continued, I easily lose motivation. If you go check my other stories, if it's not a one-shot, they are incomplete.  
Continue your support!


	9. A Good Ache

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

9

Irene

I wake up feeling some small hands tugging my eye cover. I squint my eyes as I push the eye cover to rest on my hair. 'Til sleepy, I can see the blurry figure of my daughter, gazing at me determinedly.

"Mommy! Wakey wakey!" Erza cups my cheeks. I blink a few times to adjust my vision.

"Oh, hello." I warmly smile as I look at my daughter in her purple matching pajamas with little anchors design. If this is the first thing I see in the morning, I'm sure I'll be in a good mood for the day. "Good morning, honey." I smile as I stare on her face for a longer time.

Good lord, she really looks like me. I maybe selfish but yes - all me. None of her asshole of a father. And I thank all the gods for that. Honestly, I think maybe one of the reasons I could easily cope without my ex-husband, because I don't see any traces of him in Erza. I caress her cheek lovingly. Oh, my baby – that I will give my life for. She smiles sheepishly and started jumping on the bed.

"Mommy, wake up! Wake up! We're going to the park with Acky today!" She said excitedly.

Right, we promised to bring her there today. And I didn't know she's really serious with the "Acky" nickname. I don't know what to feel, I'm happy that she's being lively since the start of this companion program, but at the same time, she might get heartbroken after this. I must remind her that Acnologia won't be with us forever. Erza is a smart kid, and she can take anyone from face value.

"You're really that excited, huh?" I asked groggily.

"Yes! Come on, mom." She stops jumping and reaches for my arm to raise me up. I catch her to cuddle, and she struggles while giggling.

"Lets just sleep some more." I said pretending to be asleep.

"No, mommy! We have to get ready!" She still happily struggles. I open my eyes to stare at her again.

"You are excited to spend time with him, and not with me anymore?" I pout, and she peppers me with kisses, I can't help but smile.

"I love spending time with mommy too." She says while giggling and I pepper her with kisses as well. Then something hit me.

"Honey, why aren't you wearing your glasses?" She didn't answer me, and I know she's hiding something from me.

"Does your boo eye hurt?" I inspected trying to push away her bangs.

Erza was a premature when I gave birth to her. Because of this, she developed Retinopathy of prematurity (ROP) on her right eye, a potentially blinding eye disorder that primarily affects premature infants. Her ROP worsens very rapidly, to the point that she needed surgery. Because my ex-husband is well-off, we were able to treat it immediately. But I remember how much I blame myself seeing my baby in pain, she's too young for that, if only my labor was on time. But resulting from that, Erza has developed amblyopia, or "lazy eye", and that's how she got to wear correction lenses. And we've been calling her right eye as the boo eye, and whenever she has to put liquid drops, she fuzzes, and I have to convince her they're unicorn tears that turns her boo eye to a magical eye.

She shakes her head. "No, I just left them at my bedside table." But I still have a feeling she's not telling something to me. "How about you, Mommy?" Are your eyes, boo eyes too? We have to get you some unicorn tears too." She reaches her hands to touch my eyes. She must have noticed I keep rubbing them.

"They hurt a little." I admit, and she moves to give each eye a kiss.

"Are they magical eyes now?"

"Yes, sweetie. They are magical eyes now."

Even though, I hate her father. I don't regret our relationship because he gave me such a loving daughter. And I realize that it's his loss for pushing her away, because she's the best daughter that any parent can have.

* * *

Acnologia

Early isn't something I strive to be for anything. It was never ingrained into me as a teenager, not even be on time for an appointment. It's a skill I learned once I'd already gotten in trouble and realized no one gave a shit if I were taught right from wrong as a child. The ones who taught me the concept of not making others wait on me was my first parole officer, the public defender who gave me the time of day, and the bosses who were willing to give me a shot, even when they probably shouldn't have.

So for me to be here today, on a Saturday, fifteen minutes early for my meeting with Erza, is a feat in and of itself. It's cool this morning, the hot grip of summer is finally loosening, and I can see the trees around the local park are starting to turn. It's not quite cold enough to see your breath in the morning, but it was enough for me to put my jacket and a beanie on.

Luckily, I was early enough to score a table that's been set up, not too far from the festivities. I try not to look too deeply into why I've grabbed two coffees and an orange juice. Hell, I don't even know if the girl drinks orange juice, but something about the pair of them make me want to try. And trying isn't something I've done in a very long time. I'm people watching, and it strikes me when I notice I'm looking at the moms and dads with kids. How do they treat their kids?

My eyes hide behind the aviators I prefer to wear, allowing me watch without anyone being suspicious. Before Erza and Irene, I never would have been interested in any of the people I'm watching now. Instead, I see with greater clarity than ever before.

To my left is a cute little family, the dad's doing his best to help the mom who appears to be about to lose her shit. Their son has spilled food all down the front of his shirt, and the mom wears another baby on her chest in some sort of strappy carrier. The dad is doing his best to clean the boy up, telling him it's okay that he's spilled stuff on him and they'll still have a good time, while the mom is trying to calm the baby down. It makes me wonder how I'd handle the situation. I hope like hell it's like this dude.

To my right there's a couple with one kid, a cute as hell little girl who's carrying a stuffed cat. She's gripping her mom's hand while the dad is jawing about there being so many people around. He's already looked down at the girl, telling her they were staying for an hour and then they were leaving. The girl looked up at him, her bottom lip quivering, apparently face painting starts in an hour and a half and that's what she wanted to do. Dick of a dad gives no fucks. This guy is exactly who my dad was, and who I hope I never am.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I grab it, thankful for the distraction.

I: We're here, I saw your bike, so I know you're already here. Where are you?

I tell myself I don't give two shits she noticed my bike and actually knows it's my bike.

A: Where they've set the tables out. I'm the dude in the leather jacket.

How much of a dork can I be? I think she knows what I look like. Now I'm looking for them, watching the groups of people as they make their way over to where the events are being held. I'm about to stand up when I see Erza leading Irene by the hand. The smile that spreads across my face is genuine. She's not wearing her tutu today, but Erza looks as cute as she did the other day. She's wearing those red converse again, this time with jean overalls and a zip up hoodie over her shirt. Her scarlet locks are down and she's wearing a strawberry beanie. I wave, whistling loudly when they get close enough.

The two ladies come to a stop in front of me.

"Hey," Irene smiles, her eyes hidden by her own pair of sunglasses.

"Hey yourself."

"You beat us here today," Erza's little voice observes from where she stands in between us.

"So I did," I reach over and grab the orange juice. "And I brought you something. I was hoping you like it."

She takes it from my hands, before looking up at me, her nose scrunched, causing her glasses to sit higher on her face. "Does it have the stringy stuff in it?"

"Stringy stuff?" I'm at a loss and glance up to Irene for help.

"The pulp," she reaches down and grabs the bottle, inspecting it. "Looks like you're safe, honey. Let's shake it up. What do you say to Mr. Belserion?"

"Thank you," she responds automatically.

"And what did we say about calling me Acno last night?"

Irene huffs, obviously trying to instill some manners in her daughter, and maybe keep some distance between us, even though we spoke last night. "Fine, we'll call you Acno." "Mommy, can I still call him Acky?" Erza asked, and I noticed how Irene is suppressing a smile. "If that's okay with him, honey." I defeatedly sigh.

"It's okay," Though inwardly, I cringed in the nickname, it makes me a softy. I smiled as I see Erza's eyes lit up, and I hand Irene the second coffee. "My peace offering to you too, especially since you were up so late last night."

"How'd you know I like Iced Caramel Macchiato's?" She looks at me suspiciously.

"You only profess your love of it all over your Facebook page. I mean, I'd have to be dumb not to see it. Every status update you make, you're drinking one."

She laughs, her cheeks tinting pink. I like that I can make her blush. I especially like it's not that hard.

"Stalker." She giggled. "What can I say? I need my caffeine."

"Don't we all?" I turn my attention to Erza. "You done this shindig before, Sprite?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Dad told me he'd bring me to the last one, but he never did."

"Drink your orange juice, and then we'll go check it out." I don't wanna influence any way she thinks about her dad. That's not fair to me, or him, and since I don't know him yet, I feel like I should at least give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Mom," she turns to Irene. "Can you take me down the big slide? I know it's supposed to be my time with Acky, but you told me when we drove by last time you would."

"I'm hanging out with you all day, if that's okay with him," she pushes Erza's bangs away from her right eye.

Fuck yeah, I get the best of both worlds. "I have no problem with it at all. It'll be my pleasure to hang out with the two of you today."

Both of them beam smiles at me, and I wonder what in the fuck I did in another life to get this kind of chance. Three years ago I wouldn't have wanted it, but something tells me today's gonna be a good time.

"You wanna play a game?"

"Yes! Yes!" Erza jumps excitedly as she gazes in awe the row of carnival games. There's some of those balloons you shoot water into and milk bottles that you throw a ball at.

"I have pretty good aim." Not trying to brag, but I do. "Which do you think? Balloon or ball?"

Gradually throughout our walk, she's let go of her mom's hand and she's focused more on me, which is cool. It shows she's learning to trust me, even if it is only a little bit.

"Baseball," she chooses, pointing at the milk bottles.

"Pressure's on," Irene laughs as she stands behind her daughter. "Now you're gonna have to win her something and you'll probably have to spend eighty bucks to do it."

"Is that right?" I look over my shoulder at her as I walk up to the person taking the money for the game. "You don't think I have good aim?"

"Maybe once you did, but even though you look in shape, I'm not sure I believe you have what it takes to throw a pitch hard enough to knock those bottles down."

Fucking ouch. This woman is busting my balls. "You think so, huh?"

Irene smirks at me, and it hits me right in my gut. She carried her daughter and asked. "What do you think, cheesecake?"

I'm interested to see what she thinks. There's a lot riding on the answer, because I want this kid to be comfortable with me; I want her to see me as someone she can turn to if she ever needed it.

"I think he can do it," she says, her voice loud and clear.

"Hear that?" I taunt Irene. "I have her seal of approval. Stand back," I flex my arms out to my sides. "And let the king work."

Three throws later, and I'm letting Erza pick out the gaudiest stuffed animal known to man. I don't even say anything to Irene, I just grin. It's enough. And as we leave the game, Erza grabs my hand. When her palm meets mine, she also grabs a hold of something inside of me that almost aches. It's a protection I've never felt before, but this little girl and her mom, they have it.

Irene's eyes meet mine, and the look of wonder on her face has to rival the feeling I have. She clears her throat, smiles brightly and doesn't call any attention to it. "Let's go find that slide, cheesecake."

All I can do is shake my head and laugh.

"Is that what you want your mom to take you on?" I point to a big contraption, looking at Erza as we walk through the carnival.

"Yeah," she grabs Irene's hand. "C'mon Mom!"

"Here," she shoves her purse at me. "Hold this, we'll be right back."

I wonder how I got in this situation, how this got to be my life, because it's never been anything like this before. Hell, up until a few years ago, I didn't even have a place to call home. Watching the two of them climb the steps that lead to the top of the slide, I think how lucky Erza is to have a mom who's not afraid to do things with her. Mine had been afraid of so much, and in hindsight that's probably where my bad behavior came from. Instead of being scared of everything, the way she was, too nurturing, I turned rebellious.

As I watch them get ready to do their trip down the slide, I think about how Irene documents pictures of them doing things together. She just happens to profess it in her Facebook page. Besides the caramel macchiato, mother-daughter bonding time fills her timeline.

So besides that fact that's she's the type of mother whose hands on, she does not only preserves memories - she's making them. But I noticed her last Facebook update was almost two months ago. She must been really busy with work. Grabbing my cell phone, I quickly take pictures of the two of them as they bump along. Irene's laughing as Erza screams out her excitement and I can't help it, by the time they come to rest at the bottom of it, I'm smiling and laughing right along with them.

"That was so much fun!" Erza turns around in a circle, as she runs towards me.

Apparently she's made herself dizzy because she tilts a little to the left. "You good?" I ask as I set her straight.

"Yeah, but I'm hungry."

We ate like two hours ago, grabbing sausage biscuits to go with our coffee and orange juice. "You are?"

"She's a garbage disposal," Irene whispers to me. "I don't know where she puts it."

Turning to her daughter, she points at one of the food trucks. "You wanna get some dessert?"

"Yeah, cake" she nods, happy with the idea.

"They're her favorite," Irene whispers. "Given the chance, this child would eat cheesecake morning, noon, and night." It's a giveaway why she sometimes calls Erza as cheesecake as endearment.

I make sure and put a little mark in my book of things to know about Erza and Irene. I never know what might come in handy.

"Lemme see them." Irene asks, no, more like demands me something. We are now sitting on the picnic tables after we got our dessert. Erza is happily enjoying her souffle, and Irene ordered this large serving of churro with chocolate dip for sharing. She suggested, actually, forced me to try it, because "It's just too good, you are missing half of your life." So this how I ended sitting across them, and sharing this "delicacy" with her.

"What?" I muttered after I took a chug of soda.

"Our photos you took at the slide. Lemme see them."

"Oh, yea. Here you go, m'lady." I said sarcastically as I handed her my phone. She somehow got confused when I gave it to her. Well, I don't have anything to hide their anyways.

"Thank you, your Highness." She replied sarcastically, probably, teasing me with my "leave it to the king" earlier.

I gazed intently at her as the mama bear checks the photos I took, fawning on her daughter's cuteness.

"Lets take a selfie with Acky's phone, Mommy!" Erza said enthusiastically. Irene looks at me, asking for permission non-verbally.

"Yea, we're cool." I affirmed.

Erza then moved to sit on her mom's lap. And Irene positioned the front camera to frame the shot. They are both smiling happily, so I also give a small smile. Just a little, too little, no one would even notice.

"There you go." Irene handed my phone back.

I checked the photo, and we're like a family enjoying our time together. I feel a good ache in my heart. It feels good, but at the same time, it aches a little, because I know this is something I can't have. And I wished that this will be longer than 900 hours. I muttered "Thanks," before they notice my awkwardness.

Erza continued eating her souffle on her mother's lap as Irene wipes some cream on Erza's chin using a table napkin. Irene giggles as she warns her daughter to slow down.

Such a beautiful scene. And I feel that good ache again.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

A chapter as promised for every new reader review. :) Thank you, Brilliantly Reckless, and Guest.

BrilliantlyReckless: Hi, thanks for discovering this story exists, and giving it a chance. Yes, there have been too few Irene/Erza fanfics here. Hoping for more authors to write about them. Yes, I've read "I Know" too by ERJasandrea13 (Hello! If you're reading this!), and it's something I want to happen as well. :)

For old readers,  
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	10. Reassurances with No Assurance

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe. There is also a scene here inspired by a video I've seen in Youtube, I won't spoil, so I'll reveal later. Credits to that as well. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

10

Irene

"I had fun with him today, Mom."

I don't have to ask who Erza's talking about. She's done nothing but talk about Acno since we left the downtown carnival. He left an impression on her, and if I'm honest, he left one on me, too. Not many men are nice to other people's children, at least not in my experience, and he never once got irritated with her or lost his temper. And when I looked down and saw Erza with her hand in his, it took everything I had not to cry.

Her dad never did that. I can't even recall the last time he held either one of our hands, and Acno probably has no idea what he's done. He put a smile on her face I haven't seen in so long, I almost forgot what it looked like. Walking around with him today, I finally felt like I wasn't alone. To put that feeling into words isn't possible. He gave us something back today – whether he knows it or not.

"I did, too," I admit. It's hard because he's supposed to be there for her, not me, but his presence is helping us both. I can't deny I look forward to seeing him, I enjoy the conversations we have together. He's not just my daughter's friend, I see him as my friend now too.

"When do we get to see him again?" she asks as she plays in the bathtub, while I sit outside it, scrubbing her arm.

Bubble bath time had been one of our bonding times. Before, but now rarely, when I am not too tired, I take a bubble bath with her, teaching her how to take care and be confident about her body. Kids get old enough to notice and ask questions, and it makes all the embarrassing conversations easier for all involved. For me, taking a bath with your kids is educating them with sexuality. And for me, parents who don't teach them young, help perpetuate nudity and sexuality as a bad stigma that causes more problems than it is supposedly meant to solve or prevent. It is the hiding of the body that triggers an unnatural interest. Well, we all have our own parenting strategies.

"I'm not sure." I told her as I put some liquid on my palm, and scrub her hair. I notice it is already a few centimeters below her shoulders. I'm planning to keep them long, so they would look like mine.

I notice her frown. It's true though, we didn't make plans, and now I'm wondering if we should have. I have to go onto our account with the Companion Program and mark how many hours he and Erza spent together today.

In a strange turn of events, my hands shake as I mentally mark the hours off as spent together. I'm counting down from the nine hundred hours he was assigned. There's still plenty, but it already hurts my heart to think of him potentially not being in our lives.

"Are you going to send him a message?" Erza asks, her eyes inquisitive.

"Do you think I should?" I don't want to appear needy and I'm fully aware this should be about he and Erza.

She nods. "Do you think he'd want to go to my aikido lesson?"

Now that? It totally breaks my heart. Most of the kids who are instructed there have both their moms and dads at every lesson. It apparently hasn't escaped Erza that she only has a mother.

"I can ask him."

"Can you Mom? Please?"

Damn, I hope Acno says yes, because if he doesn't, I don't know how she'll take it. It may be worse than before.

* * *

 _3 years ago_

 _It's Erza's self-defense recital today. And her father is nowhere to be seen._

 _He promised he'll be around, he should be, because he's the one who made her took this class. As a rich bastard as he is, he was trained in these elitist classes on martial arts, fencing, and the like. Honestly, I agreed to enroll Erza in this because this might give him some reason to be close with her. This might establish a common ground between them - which is ironic, because a father and daughter bond shouldn't be forced as this._

 _Erza's just three, and despite thinking she's too young for this, and suggested maybe wait a few years, her father just complained how I am such a drama queen. When I told Erza that her father likes martial arts, she seems to have taken an interest in it too._

 _"_ _Where daddy?" She asks before the program starts._

 _"_ _I think he's on his way, sweetie." I reassured her, though deep inside, we're putting ourselves again for another disappointment. "Why won't you go there at the bench already, I'll wait for Daddy here. I save him a seat." Her master is already waiting for her, she's the only one left who is not yet seated. She wraps her arms around my neck, clinging as if I'm a life source._

 _"_ _I'm scared, Mommy." And my heart melted._

 _"_ _You'll be great, baby. Mommy's already proud of you. I'll be just here, okay?"_

 _"_ _Mommy won't go away?"_

 _"_ _I won't. I'll be right here."_

 _"_ _P-promise?"_

 _"_ _I promise."_

 _"_ _Okay." She lets go, and hesitantly walks to the bench. I right away texted my asshole husband to get his ass here. To stop myself from exploding, I did a few inhales and exhales. This is another milestone for my daughter, I should be happy for this moment, and not worry about my dumbass husband – I calm myself._

 _It's already Erza's turn, and damn it, he's missing it. Erza walks to the platform, and she's so tiny, I restrain myself from getting up to help her climb the small steps, "there are things that she has to do on her own, Irene. Get yourself together." I scolded myself. She looks at me, and I wave at her, and she focuses her eyes on the empty seat beside me. She looks disappointed. I know because she purses her lips together when she does so._

 _She hesitantly bows at her Mr. Dreyar, before starting their creed. She was tasked to lead the student creed as she's the one who tops the class. I was so overwhelmed when Mr. Makarov told me so. They both face each other and bow again. She repeats what Mr. Dreyar says, and though she still stumbles in her words, I know she'll pull this off._

 _"I will dewelop myself… in a positive manner… and awoid anything" they crossed their arms to form a letter X… Oh my goodness, my baby's so cute._

 _"...that may weduce my mental" she pauses, anticipating to pronounce the next word… gworth," I giggled, 'oops, it's okay, you tried honey.' I thought to myself._

 _She continued. "…or my physical healph…" They have this cute actions and stances to emphasize particular words, and she's really adorable. I look at the other parents, and they're fawning over my daughter. I proudly smile to myself._

 _"_ _I will dewelop… self diwepline… in order… to help bring out the best… in myself... and others." She distractedly mumbles the last word. She attempts to stare at me, and Mr. Dreyar commands "Set!" That grabs her attention again, and she repeated "Set!" "At ease." Mr. Dreyar commands._

 _She did the 'at ease' stance, and stares at me again, or rather, the empty seat beside me. She returns her gaze to Mr. Dreyar, and continues though her voice lost the enthusiasm, "I will… use comwon sense… before swelf defense.. and never… be abusive… or offensive." "Set!" Mr. Dreyar commands again, "Set!" She repeated._

 _She purses her lips together again, forming a pout, oh no, that is what she does, when she's about to cry. I grip my handbag, ready to take her, comfort, hug, and protect her from the cruelties of life. I don't want to see her cry because of another disappointment from her asshole father. I stopped when she continued, "This is…" she sniffs… "a bwack belt school…" I'm holding my tears too, I am so proud of her courage. "…We are dedicated… We are motivated. We are…" she sniffs again holding back a sob " on a qwuest…" "to be the best... asaaah!"_

 _She bows again, and turns about face, as Mr. Dreyar changes her yellow belt to orange. She raises her high, still holding back her tears. "You're the best, Erza." Mr. Dreyar commends her as he finishes tying up the orange belt. They both bow again, and Erza calmly exits the platform._

 _I hurriedly moved to meet her at the exit. She immediately clings to me, burying her face in my shoulders. She's sobbing now, and I give Mr. Dreyar a nod, before going out. And when we were outside, she cries a river. My heart is shattering to pieces, I am holding back my tears as well, she's really brave today, and I have to be brave for her too. I continually rub her back, and kiss her head to comfort her, "Sssh...It's okay, Mommy's here." "Mommy is so proud…You're so brave, my cheesecake."_

 _Between muffled cries, she still breathes out, "Dad…d-daddy." I close my eyes, panicking what to say. I am so conflicted to give an excuse… again. No, not this time. She hugs me tighter, and I hold her tighter on reflex._

 _"_ _Sush, baby…" I pause thinking what to say, "Daddy is… proud too." Fuck, I did it again._

 _I damned us to false hopes again, but I can't bear seeing her like this, so even temporarily, I keep giving her reassurances about her father. Reassurances with no assurance. I am so weak compared to my daughter. In fact, she's the source of my strength. I pray that someday I will be brave enough like her to face these lies I feed myself. Everyone has limits, and my husband is testing my limits. No one should, because I don't know what I am capable of if I lose my self-control.. yet I still waited for a text message from him, nothing came… He never came._

* * *

Acnologia

I'm tired as hell. Erza and Irene wore me out today. It's a good kind of worn out though, one I haven't felt in a long time. It's different than the kind of tired I get after a long day's work - when I come into my lonely apartment and just want to fall into bed because I'm exhausted and there's no one here to share my day with.

Tonight, I'm tired because my day was so full. I don't have to drop in bed wondering what life with other people is like. Today, I experienced it. Irene invited me into a day in their life and included me. She didn't make me feel like I didn't belong, she made me a part of what they were doing, for all intents and purposes, a part of their family for the day. I don't know if I've ever felt that before in my life.

My cell phone chimes on the table beside my bed. Normally there'd be an internal battle. Who's texting me? Do I really want to mess with them? Is it someone asking for a favor?

This time though, I grab that shit up and check it quickly. A part of me knows it's Irene. When I see her picture on the little chat bubble from Facebook, I smile this dumbass smile I haven't had since I was a teenager.

I: I hope I'm not bothering you.

A: No, I'm just hanging out. Relaxing a little before I go grab dinner.

I: Erza wants to know if you'd be interested in going to her aikido lesson on Tuesday, and before you say yes, let me explain. Usually there's a bunch of moms and dads there. I think she realizes she's the only one without a dad there. So I completely understand if you say no and I'll make excuses for you. Don't feel like you have to say yes.

I take a deep breath. This shit is deep, deeper than I was prepared to get involved in when they gave me these hours. What if I fuck up and I'm not the person these ladies think I am?

But there's another part of me that wants to be the person they're possibly seeing me as. They don't know the old me. The fuck up, the one who would spit in the face of authority because I was told not to.

Looking back, I realize what a fuckface I was, and there's so many things I wish I had done differently. But if I had done them differently, I wouldn't be in this situation now.

It dawns on me, this is my chance to change, my chance to make a difference. I've never been able to do it before, and with these ladies, I'm being given the opportunity to right my wrongs.

A: I'd have to come after work, so I might not be as well put together as the rest of them.

I: Doesn't matter. However you want to show up is up to you. I'll explain to Erza what she sees is what she gets with you. She's capable of taking anyone at face value.

A: Are you?

I ask the question before I lose my nerve. Hanging out with her today, I noticed the ease of her smile, the way she cares for her daughter, and the capacity she has to care for other people - maybe even me.

I: I've grown up a lot in the past few years, and I've learned what some perceive as the best things in life aren't truly the best. Money means nothing if you don't have love, companionship, and trust. Security really isn't secure if you're being lied to. I value honesty - even if the truth isn't pretty.

I read between the lines. She's had the pretty, maybe she wants the ugliness of life now, at least she knows it's real.

A: I guarantee you my life isn't pretty and it's not easy, but it's mine.

I wait for what feels like forever for her answer.

I: That's probably the most honest thing anyone's ever said to me.

A: I'll never lie to you. That's one thing you can take to the bank with me.

I: Good. Let's always be honest with one another - even if it's not the easiest thing to do.

I type quickly.

A: I don't do promises, as I told Erza, but I can assure you, you won't have to wonder if what I say is true or not. I don't make it a point of lying to make things easier on other people.

I: Then we can agree on it.

I don't hear from her for the next minutes. I wonder if the conversation is done, but we left it awkwardly. Maybe I should initiate the conversation this time.

A: Are you as tired as I am?

I set the phone down and go around my kitchen, picking up the things I'll need to make dinner as I wait on her answer. When I hear the answering tone of the messenger, I make a conscious effort not to run over to it. Instead, I finish the task of putting my hamburger in the skillet to fry before I walk over and grab my phone.

It's a picture, and she's captioned it.

I: Can't you see the circles under my eyes? I'm exhausted.

A: You look gorgeous to me.

I type the words without realizing what I'm doing. I shouldn't be flirting with her, but she is probably the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen, wearing, or not wearing a lick of makeup.

I: You don't have to suck up to me

A: I'm not. You really are a very attractive woman. I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. The words came out before I could censor them.

Immediately, I realize the irony of this situation. I was worried about getting a child whose mother would hit on me, and I'm the one hitting on the mother.

I: If we're going to be honest, I would tell you those are the first nice words a man has said to me in years. And after the day I spent with you, I kind of wanted you to say them.

Now that those words are out in the open, they can't be taken back. Well, fuck. She might assume we're going somewhere more than friends. I don't want to cross the line. I know she deserves better, not some fuckface like me. My hands shakingly types.

A: Maybe now's the time I should say goodbye, and tell you I'll see you on Tuesday at Erza's lesson.

I: Sounds good. See you then.

And I do my best not to feel the loneliness the rest of the night and the next day when I don't hear from her. It's better this way, I reassure myself. Though with this pang of loneliness, I am not as assured.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

An update as promised! I didn't know if the Guest who reviewed is new reader or not. So I just assumed, that it was a yes.

The Taekwondo Student Creed scene was inspired from "3 year old taekwondo white belt reciting student creed" video from Youtube. She's too adorable. You can check it if you want.

Anyways, have you seen the latest update FT? I am kinda disappointed that all Erza just said were"Stop","Stop desecrating the corpse." She's the type who heads on attacks the enemy if her friends are being trampled on. Duh, that earned her, "She's Erza." I understand that she doesn't feel a connection with Irene, after everything she's been through, but sht, her mother's body might already be pulverized after she reacted. And even after Acnologia commented that Irene and Erza smells alike, she just remained silent. I know it's not something that "she's my mother, duh" needs to be a broadcasted gossip, but I was expecting better than a silent "..." (Hooray for the Jerza moment though.)

But still, Mashima didn't give justice to Irene's character at all. If you've read Mashima's foreword in Volume 60, I was expecting he might give Irene some respect or redemption, he quite admitted that there are parts of the FT plot that are recent made-ups. It's true that there are no already finished final plot of a story since its inception. But he should've been more careful, he even admitted that 'I should've been more careful in that one.' Going back to FT 528, my hunch to the mystery woman is Anna Heartfilia, and this fic is doomed. I know Acnorene is a crack ship, but if Annalogia is possible, I might lose interest continuing this story, because it's too awkward. I really ship Acnorene so hard, and it just breaks my shipper heart.

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I really appreciate old readers who are reviewing, it's awesome to hear your thoughts. I can't address you one by one, but I am really grateful. That I can assure you. :)


	11. On (Taco) Tuesdays

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

11

Acnologia

This day has gone to hell in a handbasket. Like with the quickness of a gangbanger at a drive by shooting. I'm trying to leave to go meet Irene and Erza when Zeref shows up.

"What the fuck, Acno-shit?" he shouts as he hops out of someone's car.

I'm not sure who he got to drive him, and frankly I don't care. Right now I don't have time to mess with him and his attitude. "I don't have time to mess with you right now, Z. Come back tomorrow."

"No, you son of a bitch, I wanna know why you took the starter off my bike. I can't get anywhere now."

He walks up like he's going to get in my face, but I square my shoulders, making myself as big as I can to make him back up real quick. But the little shit didn't.

"Obviously you can get somewhere, because you're here jawing in my face. As for the starter, you owe me for a job I did. You haven't paid, I took my property back. I warned you there were consequences to your actions."

A look sweeps over Z's face and it gives me a bit of pause. It's cold.

"You're gonna see consequences, motherfucker. You may think I'm some dumbass teenager who doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground, but I've got news for you."

My temper gets the best of me. I pick him up by his collar and shove him against the brick wall of my shop. "Don't threaten me kid, unless you have the balls to back it up."

"You're gonna know," he threatens me, voice seething. "You're gonna know what I have."

"I'm not scared of you," My voice is deathly calm as I let go of his collar. His legs give way as he falls to the concrete.

"You will be," he stands up, brushing off the ass of his jeans. "You'll learn who the hell I am."

"Bring. It. Regardless, you're not getting the bike fixed until I get the money. Now get your ass out of my shop."

I watch as he runs out. I've dealt with kids like him for most of my life. Ones who thought their words would scare me, who thought they were hard asses because they projected the attitude of one. That's not respect, and that sure doesn't make me scared of someone. If he thinks I'm gonna run back over and put the starter on his bike, he's got another thing coming.

I glance at my phone, noting the time. I'm going to fucking be late because of this piece of shit.

Quickly, I send a message to Irene.

A: Running a little late at the shop. Will be there ASAP.

I: No problem. We're waiting for our turn.

Attached to the message is a smiling selfie of the two of them. Some part of my heart that's been cold for years thaws and I don't know what the hell it means, or what the little spark of awareness is. All I know is I smile back, even though they can't see.

A few laws are broken as I make my way across the bridge and into downtown. The whole time I'm hoping like hell there's no cop around. Slowing down as I get closer to the buildings Irene told me about, I look for the number of the one I've committed to memory.

* * *

Parking is never hard to find when you drive a bike. I quickly find a spot and climb off, hooking my sunglasses in my shirt and rush towards the building called Fairy Tail, what a cute name for a martial arts school. I laugh inside, no mockery. The whole area is like a mini sports complex. The entrance shows a map with the location of the places and the facilities, so it's like all-in-one training school for sports- a pool, a boxing arena, track and field, etc, and there's also a bar! Oh, so they are the number 1 best martial arts school, no kidding. Makes me think how much Irene pays for this.

My heart is pounding as I navigate to the modern dojo. I can hear the echo of martial arts commands bounce off the exposed walls and the hardwood that greet me as I try to walk softly against it. The boots I'm wearing make more noise than I would like, but I've also never been accused of walking softly. I turn a corner, coming face-to-face, actually stumbling into might be a better way to put it, Irene.

Reaching out, I steady her by grabbing her upper arms. Again, that flash of lightning that's sparked between us on two separate occasions takes over. One day, I'm going to give in and let it consume us, let myself feel what it's like to touch her like I own her. Today, isn't that day.

"You good?" She's put her hands out to steady herself, and they're on my chest. Her fingers grip my shirt. A nagging in my gut says I should ask her to let go, but I can't. The skin under my shirt burns from where she's touching me. My fucking nipples go hard, but I do my best to push the reaction away.

"I'm good," she nods. "Didn't mean to almost plow you over."

"That's probably the other way around. I think I took the corner too fast."

"You do normally drive on two wheels," she teases, and when she smiles I see a hint of a dimple in her cheek.

I've never seen that before. It's cute as hell. I grin back at her, stuffing my hands in my pockets now that we're both sure we're steady. Glancing down, because I want a moment to compose myself before my eyes meet hers, I notice a smudge of grease on her shoe. Wonder if she got it at the shop the other day? Then my eyes focus on her fingers. The nails are a little long. Two are painted a dark grey with glitter on them, the others a soft pink. Maybe it's a play on her personality. My body responds to the thought. There are so many things I want to know about this woman. Is she light and dark? Am I getting too deep? My heart is starting to pound and my breath is getting heavier. Lifting my head, I try to compose myself.

"So where's Sprite?" I finally break the silence, not able to take it any longer. My eyes search the room, looking for the huge head of curls.

"She just went in; I was going out to wait on you so you'd know where to go."

Well shit, we're missing it. "Let's go then."

Irene slowly drops her hands from my chest, and like it's no big fucking deal, grabs one of mine in one of hers. Palms touching, fingers entwined like we're some teenage couple allowed to hold hands at the school dance, she drags me along the corridor. At my age, simply holding hands shouldn't set me off, but there's a chemistry between us I've never felt before.

As we get to a room, she turns around, putting her index finger to her mouth. "Shhhh."

There's something about the way her eyes lower when she does it. Goddamn what I wouldn't do to get this woman alone in a bed for the afternoon and there be absolutely no consequences to my actions. I nod to let her know I understand. Quietly, she leads me, still holding onto my hand. There's a handful of women and men sitting in chairs backed up against one of the exposed walls. There's two empty seats on the end. We head for those, keeping our heads down. Irene is quietly 'sorrying' and 'excusing us' our way until we can sit down. When we do, Irene lets go of my hand, and it's a physical detachment I feel. My palm itches to grab hers again, for the human contact I haven't had in so long. But when I glance up, I see Erza gazing at us, a smile on her face. I offer her a wave and she waves back, all toothy grin. The kid is excited to see me, and I'm not sure there's ever been anything that made me feel more alive, more settled than that.

"She's next," Irene whispers in my ear, causing goosebumps to form where her breath hits my flesh.

Leaning back in the chair, I reach around her shoulders with my arm, pulling her closer, kicking my feet out so I'm relaxed. To anyone watching, we probably look like a couple, and it's okay with me. In some other alternate universe of my mind, these two ladies are mine.

"Erza, c'mon up."

I pay attention when I hear her name. She stands, looking back at her mom and me before she makes her way up to the platform. Small as ever, she needs help climbing up. I fight my instincts to run up and help her, knowing there are things she has to do on her own. There are routines she has and they don't involve me, but I'm the lucky bastard she's chosen to include in this one.

"She's really tiny." I tell Irene.

"Believe me, I've always been restraining myself from helping her climb the steps." Well fuck, me too. I am surprised that I also felt the same way, it's like I am acting as if I'm a parent, Erza's father in particular. I feel conscious about it, that I decided to keep it to myself.

Now, I've never seen anyone do this kind of martial arts before in my life, just all fighting in the streets, and the troubles I had gotten into, but I'm pretty sure Erza is fucking olympian. She's fierce, never hesitating, as she executes the movements, but at the same time, it's graceful. When these things should be associated with violence and attacks, Erza expresses it like art. The flow of her movements is an art expression, it seems like she's dancing, only way better. It's a perfect combination – fierce yet gentle. I can tell she does a few movements wrong, because I can hear Irene making a noise beside me, but all in all, this kid should be at Olympics – like tomorrow.

All too soon it's over. "That's it?"

Irene leans in, a smile on her face. "That's it. Makes me wonder what I pay twenty-five bucks a lesson for."

"Son of a bitch I'm in the wrong business."

She laughs, and the sound is husky. "Aren't we all?"

I watch as she gathers Erza and their things up, holding the door open for the both of them as we exit the dojo.

"Did you love it?" Erza asks me. Her face animated, a huge smile covering her cheeks.

"I did," I answer, and I realize it's the truth. I loved her being so into it, and including me in something obviously very personal. "Next time I see you, you'll probably be at the Olympics or something."

She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my heart. "Mom says I have to practice and I have a long way to go."

"Your mom's right. It's never easy to be at the top of your game."

There's a silence blanketing us now and I can read it as clearly as a billboard sign. None of us want to go. We don't want to leave and no longer be a cohesive unit. There's a rightness to the three of us hanging out.

"Do you have plans for dinner?" I direct my question at Irene so she doesn't think I'm only asking for Erza's benefit.

She shakes her head. "We normally go out after the lessons."

"Last time it was Taco Tuesday," Erza's little voice informs me.

"It's still Tuesday," Irene laughs. "The day your aikido lesson doesn't change, baby."

"But it doesn't have to be tacos," I'm getting an idea in my head. "What about hamburgers and s'mores?"

"What's a s'more?" Erza asks, eyes inquisitive.

I let my jaw come unhinged and turn my gaze down. "Sprite, you don't know what a s'more is?"

"No." She shakes her head.

I reach down, picking her up. It's a move I hadn't planned on, a reaction I didn't want to censor. She comes willingly in my arms, perching herself on my side and putting her little hands on my bicep. "You've been neglected your whole life. We're gonna remedy that right now, if your mom's okay with me cooking."

Irene's eyeing the two of us. It's an expression I can't read. "I'm okay with it. You want us to meet you at your shop?"

"Yeah, my apartment's over it. You can park in the back. Follow me."

After getting Erza situated and making sure Irene's following me, I head back over the bridge, a huge fucking smile on my face.

* * *

Irene

You know when people tell you there are decisions in your life that have lasting repercussions? This is one of those decisions; I can feel the implications already weighing on my tired shoulders. Is what I'm doing right? Am I setting both myself and Erza up for a heartbreak that won't ever heal? I've done it once before, I can live through it again. But I wonder - can she? Glancing back in my rearview mirror, I see my daughter with a huge smile on her face. She's excited and looking forward to hanging out with Acnologia. I am too, and maybe that's the scariest part of this whole situation.

I follow close behind, not only with my car, but with eyes, as I watch him navigate traffic. There's an air of authority about him. He doesn't slouch like some guys who ride motorcycles. He sits up tall, resting a hand on his thigh when we come to a stop light. His feet plant fully on the ground and there's a masculinity to the way he sits astride the seat; like he owns it. He could own me just as easily.

A wave of lust hits me so hard, I moan out loud.

"Are you okay, Mom?"

I put my hand to my chest, trying to calm my thumping heart. I feel heat rising to my neck, and I know I'm red. "I'm fine sweetie, just making my mental to-do list." God, the things I'd want to do to him, if ever given the chance. What the hell is wrong with me? I've been a fucking nun for almost two years – that's what the hell is wrong with me.

The light changes to green, and he turns on his blinker, checking his blind spot. When he does, he waves to me. Even that move is sexy. Shit. Why did my libido pick this moment to wake up after being dormant for so long?

The rest of the ride passes in a haze for me. I spend it telling myself to calm down, nothing can come of the situation I'm in. Once his hours are done, he's gone. There's no reason he'd want to stick around with a single mom and her kid. If I can convince myself of those words, it'll be better for all of us involved.

He motions for me to go around his building when we get there. I was prepared to park on the street again, but he leads me to the back and into an alleyway. There's actual parking, and I'm really glad I don't have to attempt to parallel it again. Off the back of the garage is a fenced in back yard – small, but nice – in the middle of the cityscape that surrounds us.

As I get out and go back to help Erza out of her booster seat, he's still sitting on his bike, watching us. Finally, he gives us both a grin.

"It's nice not to have to come home alone. It's been a while since I've had guests."

Taking his sunglasses off, I watch as he hooks them into the neckline of his shirt. It's a habit that's undeniably sexy, because he does it without thinking. It's one of those moves that for me, is so masculine, it makes my mouth water.

"We have some time before the sun goes down," he's saying. "Wanna hang out until I can get the burgers on the grill? Then we can do s'mores?"

"Can I have a hot dog?" Erza asks quietly from where she stands in front of me. She's moved back so she can grab my hands and wrap them around her. She hates asking for things, a nasty little reminder from her dad.

"You can have whatever you want," he gives her a smile as he approaches and holds his arms out to her.

My daughter, who doesn't trust easily, goes right up in their strong hold. I'm speechless as I see the way he holds her on his hip. For someone who had no experience with kids, he's doing an amazing job.

"Let's go upstairs and get everything going. You go on up."

He leads us to a set of stairs that lead up to what looks to be a loft apartment. I haven't flirted in so many years, but I can feel his gaze on me. Going in front of him, I can't help but give my ass a little shake. Maybe I should have taken care to look a little more put together this morning. Immediately I'm hit again with why he's really a part of our lives. I know I've got to get my mind out of the gutter. I've got to stop projecting on him what I've been missing for so long. I glance back and see his eyes on my ass – or do I?

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Hello, new reader reviewer, inspirepromt3.3! Here's a chapter update for you. :)

Thank you for the people who keep supporting and leaving reviews in this story, especially to the Acnorene shippers. Stay strong! I hope we keep on supporting the ship even though it's really crack. Y'all my motivation in continuing this story.

How is this chapter? Let me know! Leave a review!

I'll update as much as I can for every new reader review.


	12. Burnt or Medium Well?

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

12

"You have a cat?!" Erza almost shrieks as we enter his apartment and are greeted by a Tuxedo cat, lounging on the back of the couch in the direct sunlight of the window.

He laughs, and even the sound of his laughter is damn sexy. I throw up a prayer to whatever deity is up there. Please don't let me make a fool of myself, please don't let me think things are there when they aren't.

"I think the cat kinda has me. He showed up one day about three months ago and never left." Acno chuckles.

That's gonna be us if I can't get my shit together. C'mon Irene, take the hint.

"What's his name?" My daughter is all-in with this. She's wanted a cat since we moved out into our own apartment, but our building doesn't allow pets.

"I've just been calling him Alfred because he looks like he's wearing a suit."

"Alfred?" she scrunches her nose up.

"She's judging you for this cat's name," I laugh. It's nice to see her have such a spontaneous reaction to something. Normally Erza is highly observant – much older than her years.

"Yeah, I can tell."

And there's a blush on his face.

"Why are you blushing?" I laugh as I walk over, putting my fingers out to scratch the cat's head. He purrs, turning over to get belly rubs.

"I wanna pet him," Erza pipes up. "But I hate the name Alfred."

"He doesn't come when I call him that," Acnologia admits, a sheepish look on his face as he puts Erza down on the ground.

She comes over, sitting on the couch and pats the spot beside her. The cat immediately abandons me and goes right for her. He doesn't know he's made a friend for life when he curls up at her side and starts purring even louder.

"While you two get acquainted, your mom and I are going to get started on dinner."

Her attention is riveted by the black and white ball of fur; she pays us no attention as we head to the kitchen on the left side of the room. It gives me a chance to look around his apartment. The living room and kitchen are combined, with a short hall leading to the left. I imagine that's where his bedroom and a bathroom are.

"It's small, but it's mine," he notices me looking around.

"It's not much smaller than mine and I have two bedrooms," I admit. "I'm assuming this is one."

"Yeah," he points down the hall to where I thought it would be. "Bathroom and bedroom are down the hall if you need them."

"Bathroom maybe," I laugh. "Bedroom, probably not so much."

A look flashes in his eyes. "You sure about that?"

The heat is back in my chest, moving up my neck. "Not at all," is out of my mouth before I can pull the words back down my throat.

For a long time we stare at one another, a conversation passing between us with no words. Finally, he licks his lips and moves closer, his tone low, only the two of us can hear. "At least we're both fighting against the same pull, aren't we?"

I nod, because that's all I can do. Knowing he feels it too is enough. For now.

* * *

"Sprite," he yells over to Erza. "How do you like your hot dog?

"Burnt," she answers as she runs, laughing when the cat chases her. She refuses to call him Alfred, she's trying to think of a new name for him.

We're sitting in Acno's backyard. I'm sipping on a bottle of Corona – the first I've had in years – Erza's running around, and Acno's manning the grill. If I close my eyes, I can imagine this is really my life. This is everything I've wanted and not been able to have for so long. This line of thinking is dangerous, but I'm letting myself go with it. Sometimes when you want something so bad, you can't help it.

The sky is getting darker, but it's not quiet nighttime yet. There's a pink and purple tinge to the clouds as they slowly move overhead. They're a beautiful splash of color against the high buildings, and the smell of metal. Being in the middle of the city, I'd thought this backyard would be noisy, but it's not. It's like we're in our own little world here. One where nothing can touch us, nothing can invade and put a stop to the nonsense flowing through my head.

"How about you, Irene? Hamburger? How do you want it cooked?"

For a minute I'm taken back to a memory of a time not long ago. Back when I was married. For some reason, him asking me how I want my meat cooked flashes me back to a horrible night.

 _"_ _Irene, stop eating like you grew up west of the bridge. We can't keep coming to these expensive restaurants and you continue to order your steak burnt. It reeks of no upbringing."_

 _I glare at Shouta, my husband. He knows I grew up west of the bridge. He knows my upbringing wasn't to his standards, yet he continues to put me in these situations where I embarrass him. I refuse to change everything about myself. I've already given up the second piercing in my ear, a second tattoo, adding from a previous tattoo I had before I met him - a tiara imperial crest at my back, and most especially, the design degree I'd been so close to getting when we met. I just want to fucking eat a steak that's not still bleeding._

 _"_ _She'll have it medium rare," he answers for me._

 _"_ _I'll have it well done," I put some steel in my voice hoping it makes the waiter listen to me. But we all know who has the money here, don't we?_

 _"_ _She'll have it medium rare," he reiterates. "And while you're at it, bring a glass of the 1989 Chateau Haut-Brion with it."_

 _I also fucking hate wine. Give me a beer, a bourbon, a shot of tequila any day. Wine is for the weak shit. But I love him, and regardless of the way he's high-handed sometimes, I think he loves me. He only wants what's best for me. I tell myself that every day. I'm just unsure if he really knows who I am, if he sees the real Irene._

"Hey," Acnologia snaps his fingers in front of my face. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry," I shake my head to clear the remnants of a marriage that I was never fully certain about. It hurt when he left – devastated me – to be honest. But the more time away from Shouta I have, I wonder if I hurt because my marriage, rather than Shouta, made me feel like I was second best, and not because of how much I truly loved him. That's a thought I'll keep to myself. "Medium well."

No judgement, no asking if I'm sure. Acno takes what I say, goes back to grilling/cooking our food. I breathe a sigh of relief and take a drink of my Corona. I've got this. I can make it in the world without breaking down. I'll show Shouta exactly what he gave up and tossed aside.

* * *

Acnologia

I want to know where Irene went when I asked how she wanted her hamburger cooked. Her eyes had become unfocused, her breathing erratic, and the look on her face was one of anger, regret, and maybe a little disgust. One day she'll trust me enough to tell me. I'll make her trust me enough to tell me.

"It's done, ladies."

A few months ago, I put a picnic table out here after I got sick of eating inside by myself. As I've cooked, Irene has taken it upon herself to set the table, turning us into a team. It's nice to be a part of a team. I've never had that feeling before. Setting the burgers and hot dogs on the table, I watch as they come over from where they've been checking out the flowers the old owners of this place planted.

They come over, and I pick Erza up since I'm unsure if she can comfortably navigate the table. With a hand to her back, I watch as she gets comfortable. "Want another?" I eye the almost empty Corona Irene's set in front of her.

"Better not. It's been a few years since I've even had one. It was nice, but I have to drive back tonight."

There's a part of me aching to tell her to stay here. She'll be safe if she does, and she can have one night off. One night where she doesn't have to be everything to everyone else. She can let loose and be what she needs for herself. I can see a tension she carries in her shoulders, a weariness that she probably doesn't even know she radiates. I'd like to give her a night of not having to worry about anyone but herself. Hell, I'd make her the star of the show.

"I'm starving," I reach in, grab the burger I made for myself, and go about dressing it as I watch mom and daughter prepare Erza's hot dog.

"Do you have any relish?" Irene's eyes lift up at me and I'm fucking dead. They're so dark. I mentally checked what I said and did wrong.

"Upstairs," I swallow roughly. "In the door of the fridge."

I'm getting up to already go grab it, but she shoos me down. "You did the cooking. I'll be right back."

"Sorry Sprite, didn't know you like relish." That's right, apologize Acno for something you didn't know, the mama bear is lethal when her baby bear is not properly provided of her needs. I wiped a sweat on my forehead.

"Mom says most kids don't, but she craved it when she was pregnant with me."

Erza is so matter-of-fact; I can't help but grin widely at her. "Relish is good on hot dogs. Maybe one day we can go see the Reds play, and you can have a ballpark hot dog. Would you like that? They have relish, and brown mustard, and ketchup."

Her eyes are wide, and I wonder what the fuck I'm doing, filling her head with ideas that'll probably never happen. As soon as these hours are done, they're probably going to drop me like a bad habit.

"Got it," I hear Irene coming down the stairs. Turning around, I watch as she navigates them, not scared that they're a little further apart than most. I built them, and I have a long stride. As she takes them one at a time, her tits bounce in the t-shirt she's wearing, and I wonder if that's what they'd look like as she straddled me. Fuck me, I've gotta stop thinking about her like this.

I've always been the kind of guy who wants what he can't have – and Irene – she should be totally fucking off-limits for me.

* * *

"How do you make them?"

"You don't know how to make a s'more and you've never had one? Irene, what are you teaching this child?" I give them both a mock glare.

It's finally dark enough and the temperature has dropped about ten degrees. Cool enough that I was able to get a fire going in the fire pit. We're not freezing, but we're not burning up. It's almost fucking perfect. S'mores are a favorite of mine, so I always have the ingredients around to make them.

"Obviously not the ways of the world according to 'O Great, Acnologia'," she teases, the dimple showing up in her cheek again.

"You both have a lot to learn when it comes to the ways of my world. Don't worry, I'm a good teacher."

Irene inhales deeply, speaking softly. "That's kinda what I'm afraid of."

I don't acknowledge I heard her, because I don't think she wants me to. We're both literally playing with fire, and in the end, one or all is going to get burned. It's inevitable. The way I see her staring at me, the way I'm staring back at her. Through her shirt I can see her nipples are hard, and I know it's not because of the temperature. If she looked close enough, she could see my dick is just as hard. Off-limits obviously means arousing as fuck to me.

"Alright," I hold up the marshmallow I put on a stick to Erza. "Hold this over the flame and let it get nice and toasted, burnt if you want. When it's done, we'll stick it in between this chocolate and a graham cracker. That's a s'more." Erza looks at her mom for confirmation.

"It's good," Irene reassures her. "You'll like it sweetie, I promise."

I grip my hand over her small one to help her hold it steady. Her look of concentration reminds me of Irene and I can't keep the smile off my face. "You want it toasted or burnt?"

"I think I'd like it burnt," she looks at me, her lips pursed together. "It's how I like my hot dog."

"Your logic is sound," I nod. "So if you want it burnt, we can do it the fun way. Let's lower it here, and let it catch on fire."

"On fire?!" Her eyes are wide, and Erza looks at her mom again. I get it, her mom has always been her more knowledgeable other. One day, this kid will trust me enough to be one too.

"It'll be good, sweetie." Irene reassuringly smiles at her. "Mom likes it that way too." Irene continues, and that's the last straw for Erza to confirm "Okay."

I lower our arms with a little pressure on her hand and let the marshmallow linger over the open flame long enough, until I see the flame spark a little brighter. "That's it," I pull it back, and it's definitely on fire.

Erza giggles, screeching as she sees it. "Blow on it," we tell her.

She's blowing on it for all she's worth, but it's not enough, so I pull it back and give it a good puff, putting the fire out completely. "Okay, hand me your chocolate and graham cracker." There's excitement in her eyes as she thrusts them at me, waiting impatiently as I make her treat.

"Be careful," Irene warns. "It'll be hot."

Erza takes a small bite, heeding the warning her mom gave her. After she chews slowly and swallows, she glances up at me, eyes wide. "It's so good!"

Bam, right in my heart, this kid has made my night. I wanted her to love this, I wanted to give her a piece of myself – of something I enjoy doing – and she loves it. "Yes!" I hold out my hand for a high-five. When she claps me with one, I grab her hand and pull her to me, giving her a hug. When she wraps her small arms around my neck, I don't even give a shit that sticky marshmallow gets in the back of my hair. This moment, is everything.

* * *

Irene carries Erza to the car and I struggle with small talk for the first time all night. I don't want them to go, if I could, I'd keep them here all night and find out everything about Irene's life before she met me. "I had a really good time. Sorry she fell asleep."

I watch as Irene moves her hand up and down Erza's back. To sleep the way this kid is sleeping would be amazing. She's in the deep slumber of the innocent. I haven't been there in years; if ever.

"I'm not," she laughs. "That means I get a full night of getting work done without having to worry if I've neglected her. Hopefully she'll sleep through the night."

"Text me when you get home," I hold the car door open, so she can reach in and get Erza buckled in. When she does, she extricates herself from the back seat and straightens to her full height, her head comes to my sternum, I want to put my arm around her neck, pull her close, and breath in the scent of the perfume she wears.

She tilts forward on the balls of her feet, almost like she wants to launch herself at me. I won't say no, I won't turn her down, if she does. I'll hold my arms open and invite her into the circle. At this point, I'm obsessed to know what her soft curves will feel like against the hard planes of my body. She stops herself and breathes deeply, before flashing her eyes up to mine. "I will." The words are breathless and I wonder what the hell's going through her head. What I wouldn't give to have a front row seat, and have all that information.

I walk her around to the other side of the car, open the door for her, and for a few seconds think about giving her the kiss I've wanted to give her all day. In the end, I decide against it, now doesn't feel right.

"See ya," she gives me a small wave with her fingers.

"Thursday? I have a parole meeting and then I'm free."

I have to give it to her; she doesn't back away at my parole mention. "Sure, just let us know what you want to do. Since I work half-days, is it okay if I work on your office while you go to your meeting?"

"Yeah, be sure and get there ASAP after you get off work, I'll let you in, so you can work without anybody bothering you."

"Sounds good," she leans in this time, hugging me around the waist. The spark is there. Our heads tilt towards one another, her eyes watch my lips, and I can almost taste her tongue, but she disengages at the last second. "See you then, Acno."

I clear my throat, clogged with the almost-taste of something I want desperately. "See you then."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Here's a chapter update as promised whenever there's at least one new reader review. This is for you, inspirepromt3.3, aesthetic umbrella, orlagho, and blackwolfking. Wow, 4 new reader reviews. I am so glad you give this story a chance.

Thank you old readers, you know who you are. It's great hearing your opinions. ;)  
How do you like this chapter? If you noticed, I named Irene's ex-husband to Shouta Aizawa from Eraserhead, because they look alike. And Irene's tattoo, is the Alvarez crest. And the pun, O Great Acnologia, I just have to put it there. And the cat! Acno's a dragon slayer, so he should've a cat. My logic's sound? Do you have a nice new name for Alfred? Though there's already a new name for him in mind.

By the way, Do you like reading short, average, or long chapters? I wanna hear you out in adjusting the word count. And oh, are you guys okay with intense lemon scenes? I might change the rating to M for the next following chapters, because yes, intense lemon. If you're not comfortable with it, you may skip it. :) Because they just have to deal with this sexual tension, it's been too long, don't you think?

 **So yes, just a reminder, this story will be changed to Rating M! I hope you still continue to support the story even so.**

Let me know your thoughts!  
Leave a review!  
I'll update as much as I can for every new reader review.


	13. Little Games

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

 **I've already changed the Rating to M. Again, if you are not comfortable with lemon, you may skip it.**

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

13

Acnologia

Irene's smiling at me, the sweetest, sexiest smile, I've ever seen in my life, as she sits on the edge of my bed. Her long scarlet hair is wavy, hanging over the front of her shoulder. Using the towel I'd been drying off with after getting out of the shower, I quickly move to cover myself; I don't want to make her nervous.

"How'd you get in here? When'd you come back? Where's Erza?"

She giggles, a throaty little sound that makes me tent the front of the towel I've just used to cover my nakedness. "You didn't lock the door, which is totally not safe at all. I can't believe you don't lock your door. Erza's with a close friend who lives in our neighborhood. I decided to come back because I couldn't go to sleep tonight without at least having a taste of you."

Irene's much more forward than I imagined she would be. It's the most arousing thing I think I've seen in my life. "Funny," I grin down at her. "I was thinking the same thing when I watched your car leave."

"We have tonight," she whispers to me as she stands, putting her hands around my waist, the way she did when she said goodbye to me tonight.

"Then let's make tonight count," but shit, I want way more than one night with her. That's much more my problem than it is hers, because I truly have no idea what my future holds. At any time they can pull me back to jail if they don't think I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. While I have it, I'm going to enjoy my time with her. It's the only thing I can do.

She leans in, using her slender hands to grasp the towel around my waist. Slowly, she drags it off, and fuck if that isn't one of the sexiest things I've ever endured. I want to rip it off, wrench her tight jeans off, and go to town between her thighs. I want her screaming my name and coming against my face before I shove my dick so deep inside her she doesn't even remember the name of her ex-husband, let alone any other man she's been with before.

Pushing me to the bed, she gives me a little smile, before she sinks to her knees in front of me, separating my thighs. "Holy shit, Irene," I cram my fist in her hair, letting my nails scratch against her scalp. "You don't have to do this," I force her to look up at me, want her to see this isn't what I had in mind when I invited her here tonight. At the end of the day, we're still going to have to be able to be there for Erza, and I don't want this to come between us.

"I want this as much as you do," her voice is soft, but strong. Underneath the longest eyelashes I've seen, she glances up at me. "You do want this, don't you?"

"What do you think?" I use my palm, guiding her mouth to the juncture of my thighs. I'm careful not to force her, just leaving the flat of my hand as a presence so she knows I'm here.

Without any kind of preliminaries, she takes me into her warm mouth, using her tongue to stroke the underside of my hard length. Son of a bitch! I hadn't expected her to go full-on deep throat, balls in, right from the beginning. I'd assumed Irene was a get it wet, tease me kinda girl before she took me straight down.

Everything about this woman was a surprise so far.

Pushing my fingers through her hair, I guided her, holding her where I needed her to be, as I moved my hips against her face. Her lips pulled tight against the force of the thrust and withdrawal between us. It was a pleasure I wasn't sure I could handle.

"So warm, so fucking wet, so tight. That's it, fight me on the withdrawal, hollow out those cheeks, and don't let me go," I encourage her, and damn if Irene isn't good at following fucking directions. I wonder how she'll be when I get balls deep inside her pussy, I wonder if she goes for hers first, or if she lets us get there together.

Her fingernails dig into my thighs, and I fight against the need to explode against her tongue. It's been a couple months since I felt anything but my right hand, and considering how aware I was of her today, I'm on a hair trigger. But first, I want to see her. There are things she's been hiding from me beneath mom jeans and t-shirts.

I tap the side of her jaw. "Let me go for a sec."

And it's hell to slide out of her mouth, but as I see my cock coated in her saliva, I feel a pride, a possession I shouldn't feel for her. She should be completely off-limits, with a huge roll of caution tape around her. I can't help myself, I can't make myself leave her alone or let her go.

"Let's take this off," I reach down and grab the hem of her t-shirt pulling it over her head.

Tits that are spilling over the cups she's got them encased in greet me, and I wonder if she'd planned this. Had she changed when she went home? The bra she's wearing is lace, see through, because I can make out the dark roundness of her nipple.

"Did you know you'd be taking this off for me tonight?" I mumble as I lean down, using my finger to trace the skin above the lace cups.

"Not when I first came here," she closes her eyes, sitting on her knees. She's starting to dip her body down, to rock her hips in a motion as old as time. She's as fucking turned on as I am. "But when I decided to come back, I got the only sexy one I still have and put it on for you."

Now that? Makes me feel like a million bucks.

"C'mere," I pull her up by grasping her under the arms and help her straddle my waist. My dick nestles nicely in between her thighs. "What do you want me to do to you?" I want there to be expectations met in this encounter in case this is the only one. I don't want her going home and finishing herself off with her hand and a vibrator. When she has to walk away, I want her aching to immediately turn around and come back.

"You," her gorgeous brown eyes are bright, almost glowing in the muted light of the room. "You to make me forget I wasn't good enough for another man. Make me feel like a woman, Acnologia Belserion, make me enough for you."

The words almost break my heart because she is good enough. Any man with half a brain would be lucky to have her on his arm; in his bed. "I can make you feel good, Irene, and making you feel good will make me feel like the luckiest bastard in the world. I've never had anyone as beautiful, as amazing as you are."

There are tears in her eyes as she climbs off my lap, getting rid of her jeans, before straddling me again. Reaching down, she holds her sensible panties aside – because maybe all the wild woman had left was the bra – and takes me in one stroke. Fucking takes me deep, takes me home, and I'm gritting my teeth against the arousal slamming against me, threatening to overtake my body.

"That's it," she moans deeply in my ear, grasping my shoulders with her fingers. "Fuck, it's what I've needed for so long. Plastic and batteries are so impersonal."

"So's my hand," I manage to push between my lips.

Reaching down, I grasp hold of my cock as she lifts herself off. The pull of her pussy is too much, I can feel myself coming.

"Fuck," I scream, pissed at myself for erupting so early, for not giving her everything I wanted to give her.

It's then that I open my eyes and realize I'm alone in my bed panting, sweating, hand around my cock, and my orgasm covering my stomach. I squint at the clock. It's three am, and I've just woken up jacking it in my sleep. I haven't done that shit since I was a teenager.

My chest heaving, my heart pounding, I lean my head back against the pillow, trying to calm down. If there's one thing I know for sure now, it's that Irene isn't a need that's going to go away. I have to have her, have to try and get her out of my system. If not, I'm gonna end up trying to convince her to stay and fucking keep her forever. No more little games of screwing around. Shit gets real.

And if there's one thing I know for sure – it's that Acnologia Belserion has officially lost his damn mind.

* * *

Irene

I'm nervous heading to Acno's shop, but it's different than it was the first time I went. Our night changed things. I can't put my finger on it, but I feel different as I make my way across the bridge. Today I've grabbed a change of clothes and something to put my hair up with.

Shaking my head, I grin, thinking I've never seen anyone's office as bad as Acnologia's. It's part of his appeal – the 'no fucks given' attitude he shoves in the face of everyone is like a shield against the world. I'm convinced now, more than ever, that there's a deeper side to Acno, a side he doesn't show to many. Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, I wonder what it takes to see that side.

 _"What are you doing, Irene?"_

It's a question I've asked myself a lot since last night. After leaving his apartment, I went through his Facebook. Except with loads of women checking him out in the comments section of his photos, it's mostly about his job, more motorcycles and things of that nature than anything. But hidden deep, I found what I think are a couple of friends. There were a handful of pictures of him on there with a woman, I'm not sure if it's an ex-girlfriend or what, but I'm interested. In a few of them he had a genuine smile on his face. I want the smile for myself, I want Acnologia to look at me like I'm the only person in his world. Sometime during the long night, while I lay alone in my bed, aching for him, wondering what it would be like to be his, I decided I want to be. Consequences be damned.

The only other time I've put this much determination into anything was opening my business, and so far, that's doing pretty outstanding. So this morning when I got up, I put a level-up effort in my usual make-up. Style elaborately the waves in my hair, ran some mascara over my lashes, deliberately chose the combination colors for my eyeshadow, and put my scarlet lip stain on for the finishing look. He probably won't even notice, but at least I'll feel on top of my game. What little game I have anyway.

Pulling onto the street, I see a parking spot I can easily get into and send up a little thank you. I'm a horrible parker and anytime I can make it easier on myself, I do. Locking the car, I check both ways before I cross the street, wrinkling my nose up at the wind messing my hair up.

"Hey," Acno waves as I approach the building.

Damn he looks good today. I've never known a man who could wear a pair of worn jeans like he does. And a camo shirt – I don't even like camo shirts, but on him? I wanna burrow underneath it, and let him keep me warm. I shiver as my feet eat up the concrete separating us.

"You cold?" he asks as he sees me. "It got chilly all of a sudden. I had to go upstairs and grab a jacket earlier, especially since I'll be riding the bike."

"I'm good," I try to keep my voice light, my tone the same as it would be no matter who I was speaking to. "You have to leave?" I remember him saying something about having an appointment.

"Yeah, in just a minute. I wanted to make sure you got here okay first."

Tell me why those words make my heart beat faster? It's not like he's professed his undying love. He was being a gentleman, but there's a part of me that knows there's hardly anything gentlemanly about this man.

If I'm being completely and totally honest, maybe that's what I want. A man who not only takes care of me, but sees me as an equal. too. As someone he can take to bed and treat me like I'm his possession, and he's mine, but still respect respect each other. Maybe that's what I want – a little adventure and a whole lot of fun.

The question remains, is Acnologia the man to take me on the ride?

* * *

He left fifteen minutes ago, locking me in the garage so that, in his words, people won't come in and ask you questions about shit you have no answers for. I've changed, grabbed some gloves, and the whole box of trash bags, and now I'm standing outside the door of the office.

There's a little part of me that wants to look around and see if I can find anything out about the man he used to be. I'm curious, anyone would be. But before I can talk myself into it, I talk myself out of it. I don't want his and my relationship to be like that. If I find something out, I want it to be because he told me and trusted me enough to let me in enough to be honest with me.

Sighing, I open the door to the office and give it a hateful look. There is so much potential here, and he's wasting it all. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I start taking pictures so I can upload them later. If I can make this place look organized, anyone will fucking hire me.

I'm not even sure where to begin, so I start with the desk. Sitting in his chair, I can tell it's probably never been sat in longer than a few hours at a time. My chair at home, it conforms to my ass cheeks, the back of it has a strip of fake leather missing where I constantly rub it against the wall. This one feels almost brand new. Grasping the papers in my hands, I'm shifting through them, looking at the dates. Some of these things are almost five years old.

I: Something happen five years ago?

I text him, not expecting an answer because I know he's on his bike.

As I start going through things again, loud knocking starts on the garage door.

"Acnologia, I know your ass is in there, this isn't over, man. I want my fucking starter back and I want my bike fixed."

I try to ignore the sound of the knuckles against the metal, but after I jump for the third time, I'm pissed. Acno didn't tell me not to open the door, he told me he didn't want me to have to mess with people and if these are the kind of people he deals with on a daily basis, I feel bad for him.

Using my best mom face and getting my voice ready for my mom tone, I yank open the door right as the guy tries to knock again. "Can I help you?"

His eyes rake up and down my body. I raise an eyebrow. He's got the emo bad boy swagger down perfectly as I give him a perusal, too. His jeans are just the right amount of baggy, some black jacket over his high-collar black polo. The pre-requisite jewelry necklace is there, as well. But on him overall? He looks like a kid in his dad's clothes. Not at all like a man.

"I'm looking for Acnologia."

Even his voice has an edge of youth to it. It's deep, but not deep with the passage of time and use. If I had to hazard a guess, it's deep because he just finished smoking one up – his dilated pupil's kind of give him away.

"He's not here," I put my hand up in the doorway to make it obvious he's not invited in. I've been a single mom long enough to know how to protect myself, and this kid is giving me some skeevy vibes. Funny how Acno, who's supposedly the felon, never gave me those. "Can I give him a message when he gets back? He didn't tell me anybody would be stopping by."

"Are you his girlfriend?"

What the fuck does it matter? "We're friends," I keep my tone cool.

"Acnologia normally doesn't keep them around long," he sneers. "They're around for a couple of weeks, he fucks 'em, and then he's done." He pauses for some kind of effect, and then he hits me where I guess he thinks it hurts. "At times, there are sexy sluts coming over with kids claiming as his secret baby. With the multitude of ladies he had screw over, it's highly likely, but the shit denies them." He smirked.

"Well given the way he's taken to my daughter, I definitely think he'd claim them if that were true, honey." Could I be any more of a bitch? Obviously he's thought it to be true before, otherwise he wouldn't have brought it up now.

"Gotcha. So there's really a daughter in the mix? He's really into MILFs, huh." He chuckles, and his eyes turn dark. "Well, don't let him having to be there for your daughter think he's gonna be there for you."

I'm surprised this little shit knows about the probation deal, and he has been playing me all along.

"If you're done with your little games, you can leave. I'll let him know you showed up. Is there a name I need to give him?" I pick at my nails, acting like I don't care. I don't, because there's nothing I've seen, nothing that remotely even supports the venom coming out of his mouth. It's pretty obvious, at least from someone who's been alone a long time, that Acnologia's been alone too.

"Zeref. It's a sacred name around here they can't even utter, so they only call me Z. You can remember it and scream it when he's making you come."

The foul taste that rolls up my throat makes me gag. He needs his ass whooped and some manners coaching. If I were his mother, I'd be ashamed. "Zeref." I emphasize the word, sacred my ass, it's easy to be trampled on. "Got it. Thanks. See you around, kid." I raise my tone with the kid to put him in his place.

I close the door, hoping the kid jab will make him go away, but something tells me he's not going away that easily, and I would be lying if his little games didn't hurt my self-esteem a bit.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Here's a chapter update for new reader reviews from OtakuCinnamonRoll and JJThaMan667! Thank you for reviewing! I appreciate it. :)

For old readers, are you disappointed with the 'unofficial' Acnorene lemon? Were you fooled that it was true? Sorry, but not yet, but it's coming for sure. In my assessment, Acno's a man struggling with self-control here, especially with pent-up desires. He has to find a way to release it. It's something to be explored.

What did you think of this chapter?  
Let me know and leave a review!  
And for every new reader reviewer, I'll update as much as I can.


	14. The Risks We Take

I do not own anything. Credits to Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

14

Acnologia

"How's it going?" Silver asks as I have a seat.

"Not too bad, except for traffic being a bitch."

I was almost late for this meeting and that's the last thing I need, especially when I'm trying to get my shit together.

"You did cut it a little close," he gives me an ironic smile.

"I was on time though, wasn't I?"

He coughs. "Barely, but it doesn't matter, as long as I didn't have to wait on you. How's Erza? I see you've been spending a good amount of time with her. Irene's doing a good job of keeping track of the hours."

Suddenly my blood runs cold. I hadn't realized they were keeping track of my hours. Well, that's a lie. I did know they were keeping track of them, but I always seem to forget, my time with Irene and Sprite would be finite. How many hours were left? How much time did I have to make my dream last night a reality? Everything comes into focus, and I think maybe I've been playing life too safe. What if I never get the chance to do the things I want to do? What if our time ends before I take my opportunity?

"You okay?" he looks at me like I've lost my mind.

Maybe I have, a little. So much of my life passed me by when I was in jail, and this whole time I've said I don't want to go back there. In reality, if I'm being honest, I've not been living either. I've been biding my time, hoping like hell eventually Irene will telepathically know what I want from her. That shit's not gonna work.

"I'm good," I nod, folding my ankle over my knee. I will be good. Starting today things were going to change, they'd have to.

"It looks like you have around eight hundred more hours, and if you're good, then I'm good. There's been no complaints. You and Irene getting along okay?"

"Yeah, she's a great mother," I answer automatically. Because she is. She's the type of mother I would have loved to have as a child. The type I'd pick for my kids if I ever decide to have them, which probably I think I would be suck at.

"Alright, let's make another appointment for two weeks from today. Did you give your urine sample already?"

"Yes," I roll my eyes. "You know I'm gonna piss clean."

"Technicality, Acno. No bullshittin' though. I'm really happy with how you've embraced this and how well you're doing. You could have thrown a middle finger to this whole program and decided to go to jail. I'm glad you didn't."

I blow out a breath, because what he's saying is heavy stuff. Words I never thought would mean much to me and definitely words I never thought I'd hear. "I'm glad I didn't, either."

As I leave the office and hop on my bike, I can't wait to get back across the bridge. This time, for different reasons than before.

* * *

Irene

I've been working for almost two hours and I'm not sure you can tell. The amount of paper this man has is insane. By the time I'm done, we'll be filling the city landfill, I'm almost positive of it. Turning my phone over, I don't see a text from him, not after the question I asked.

It bothers me he hasn't answered. I thought we were close enough to share at least that much with one another. Finally, I see a flash of brown. Could it be? Am I almost to the wood grain of the desk? I want to get up and dance a little jig, but I'm also trying to be halfway professional.

A bike cutting through the back alley grabs my attention. I think it's Acno already, but I'm not completely sure. I figure if I spend enough time here, enough time with him, I'll know for sure. There's something intimate about being able to distinguish the sound of his bike from the sound of others. Like a teenage girl, I hope we get to that point in our relationship. When the backdoor opens and I hear his boots hit the concrete, I breathe a sigh of relief.

"You still here, Irene?"

"Buried under all the paper in your office," I answer, a grin on my face.

"You've got wood!" He sexily laughs as he comes in and sees I've unearthed a bare patch on the desk.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" I wink, giving him a saucy smile.

"If you only knew." His eyes turn a shade darker than they normally are, and I wonder what's brought on the change. What's he imagining? I want to ask, but after Z was here, and after what that emo kid had told me, I worry maybe it's some other woman.

Clearing my throat, I hold up my phone. "I've been here almost two hours."

"I know, I'm sorry it's such a mess."

He strides over to the only other chair in the office and throws everything on the floor. "As you can see, I've never really been the neat and orderly type when it comes to my business."

"Which is weird as hell because your apartment is so clean you could eat off the floor."

He shifts in the seat, and I wonder if I've hit on something with my words. I don't push because I've learned most people close up when they're backed into a corner. Instead, I keep cleaning. Eventually, maybe ten, or maybe it's fifteen minutes later, Acno speaks.

"Five years ago, I went to jail. And the reason you can eat off my floor is because how clean things had to be there." His voice is soft, there's possibly embarrassment there as he ducks his head, running a hand through his hair.

"What did you go to jail for?" This is what I've wanted to know since they brought him up to me.

"What I went to jail for, and what I'm in trouble for now are two separate things," he clarifies, shifting again in the chair, pushing his legs further apart. "If I'm honest with you about this, Irene, it's going to change shit, and I think you know it. I've never been honest with a woman in my life. None of the other women ever wanted to know. I don't want you to look at me differently, I don't want you to take Sprite away," his voice is hoarse as he speaks. "I've finally got some normalcy in my life, and it's thanks to you and Erza. If you rip it out from under me, where the fuck am I going to be then?"

My stomach hurts. I want to know, but I don't want my feelings for him to change. I don't want to meet the guy he was then; I want to know the guy he is now. Aren't they the same my conscience argues? One's older and wiser, while the younger was probably hot-headed and thought he had the world by the balls. My fingers flex against the desk and I realize I've been gripping the edge, trying to hold myself from going over and pulling him against me. If there's one thing being a mother has awakened in me, it's my nurturing side. I never had it until I held Erza in my arms, and now I want to take care of everyone.

This is where I get into trouble, wanting to help the world. Am I going to get in trouble wanting to help this man? Is he worth it? Can I keep Erza safe? Can I keep my heart safe? So many unanswered questions, and for once in my life, I find I don't really gift a shit. For once, I kind of want what I want, and the consequences be damned.

"Tell me," I whisper. "Tell me what happened. I can't promise you it won't change how I look at you, but I do promise I won't judge you. I want you to let me in, I want to know you, not the perfect guy who brings me Caramel Macchiatos. I wanna know the imperfect one who got himself into some shit he couldn't get out of."

He's quiet for long moments, almost long enough for me to think I've pushed too hard. When he speaks again, the words are ripped from his throat. "You could destroy me, you know?"

I don't know. I have no idea how I could destroy him and I honestly don't even know how he's come to the conclusion I can. "How?

He runs a hand over his chin, before putting it up through his hair. "You and Erza. The two of you give me a glimpse of what I could have, what I could hope for. You give a man that kind of hope and he starts wishing for things he has no business wishing for."

I don't know what to say, because I still don't know what he's done. "Maybe you should be honest with me, and then I'll let you know what you have a chance in hell of hoping for."

Again, he quietens, so I begin to clean, acting like it doesn't matter if he tells me what I want to know or not. This is his story, and I can't force it. Either he's ready, or he's not. I also know, before our time together is over, I'll have to tell him my story.

"Can you hang out?" he asks after several minutes. "I know you have Erza to worry about, but once I start, I don't want to stop, and if I tell you…I'm gonna want you to do the same for me."

My thoughts had been right on track. Slightly scary how well I already know this man and how he works. "I have a close friend who lives in our neighborhood, she's Erza's class adviser actually, she watches her when I'm super busy with the planning business. Sometimes she takes her overnight and part of the next day, so I can work interrupted and then sleep some the next morning. I can call her, ask her to tag Erza along when she goes home, and keep her tonight. I can be here for as long as you need me to."

There's a light in his eyes I've not seen before, a hope for a future. I don't want to disappoint him, don't want to make him wish for it, if there's no chance in hell, so I ask him to wait a minute.

"Let me go out and call Anna. I'll let you know what she says, and we'll go from there."

He nods, and I realize if this works out, it completely changes our friendship to a relationship. One we'll have to figure out how to make work.

* * *

Acnologia

I wait for her to come back in, nervous as fuck she'll say she has to go home. I'm nervous she's going to stay, too. Either way it means I open my life up, my past, my future - it all fuckin' collides - to make a present I never dreamed could be possible.

My hands shake as I reach into my pocket and fish out my zippo, grabbing a cigarette from the pack I keep in my jacket. I don't have a habit where I need to smoke constantly, but when I get nervous, I have to have something to calm me down; something to keep my hands busy if there's not a bike around needing work.

Irene comes back in, cell phone in hand, eyeing me as she puts it back in her purse. "Anna is okay to watch Erza tonight and get off together to school in the morning." She bites her lip as she looks at me, her eyes are bright, and I wonder what the fuck I'm doing. "Don't make me regret this, Acno, make sure you're honest with me."

Taking a deep inhale on the cigarette, I hold it in, letting the smoke escape through my nostrils. If she has something to say about the smoking, she keeps it to herself. "I'll be as honest with you as I expect you to be with me."

To my surprise, Irene grabs the other chair and pulls it over to where I sit. She has a seat, gives me a look I feel to the marrow of my bones, reaches over and takes the cigarette out from between my fingers. Before I can say anything, she's put it up to her lips and taken a drag for herself. It's incredibly intimate and sexy. It makes me groan as I realize her lips are right where mine were. They've finally touched, even if it isn't the way I envisioned they would.

"I may need my own cigarette to get through my story," she gives me a grin.

It's a grin that says she understands things maybe aren't always what they seem, maybe everyone has their own story and it's not as clear-cut as the world tries to make it out to be.

"If we're gonna do this, let's go to the backyard. There's nothing I like more than a beer and a fire."

She stands with me. "Do you want some clothes that aren't completely covered in dust?"

She hadn't planned on staying here, and after all the work she's done, she probably doesn't want to stay in those dusty, musky clothes any longer than she has to.

"If you have something, I don't want to put my work clothes back on."

I know I'm playing with fire, but there's still a piece of the bad boy who likes to get burned. If not burned, then singed. I'm not sure that part of me will ever change. "Then let's close up shop here."

We're both quiet as she gathers her stuff. I do my routine when I close the shop; making sure the doors are locked, things are clean and put away. It kinda makes me wonder how in the hell my office looks the way it does. I'm very careful with the way the workspace of the shop looks.

"You ready?" I stick my head through the doorway of the office. My heart's pounding and my palms are sweaty. This is another one of those moments that feels like it's changing the course of my life. I hope it changes the destination, because I've never really known where it was going to end. Like a gypsy, I've flitted around from one thing to another, it wasn't until my freedom was taken away that I realized how much I do want a destination I can be proud of. With everything I am, I believe Irene and Erza are a part of the plan, they're what's going to put me on the right path, if I just fucking follow it.

"Yeah," she rubs her hands on her jeans, a nervous habit most people have.

"You know if you don't want to do this, you don't have to," my soft words give her an out. If there's one thing I don't want, it's her to feel as if she has to listen to me when she really doesn't want to.

"I know," she looks up at me, her scarlet hair spilling over her back, escaping the pencil she's secured it with. "But I wanna know. I've wanted to know since you came strutting through the door of the center, with grease under your nails, late as all hell."

The embarrassment I still feel, causing me to laugh and duck my head. "Not my best moment."

"No," she agrees. "But you made the best of the situation, and that probably says more about you than being on time."

"Erza's lucky to have a mom with the ability to look at the big picture."

"I'm lucky to have a daughter who looks past my faults and loves me for what I can give her. She never asks for anything more than what I can afford. More than anything, my daughter loves to hang out and do something with the people she cares about. You don't know how excited she gets when we make popcorn, or bake cookies, and watch a movie. I'm thankful for it, because since I became a single parent, my time isn't something I can always give her, but when I can, she's so appreciative. We've had money before, but we never had her dad's time."

The words I'm about to speak can change everything, but I have to speak them. "The one thing you can always count on having with me is time. Money isn't everything to me; I don't need much to live."

Her brown eyes bore into mine. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say she's damn near speechless.

"Let's get upstairs so we can both change."

As we get to the end of the stairs, I motion for her to go up in front of me, amazed in myself. I can still be a gentleman, even when some of the most basic manners were lost while I went to prison. It's a revelation – she makes me want to be someone better. I want to be the better person for Irene and Erza. Can I sustain it? I have no fucking clue, but I'm willing to try.

Neither one of us speaks as we enter the apartment. She follows me to the bedroom, and I have to tell myself to calm down. Just because she's followed me back here, doesn't mean we're going to do all the things I've thought about.

"It's even neat here," she eyes the bed.

She and I could mess it up, stay in it for days at a time, only coming up for air and food before we climb back under the covers. "Yeah, one of the other holdovers I have."

Her lips purse as she nods. "Nobody's askin' you to change who you are Acno. Don't feel so bad about where you come from."

Emotion clogs my throat. Instead of speaking, I dig through my dresser, grabbing the smallest pair of sweatpants and a hoodie I have. "Here you go," I shove them towards her, pointing to the bathroom. "You can change in there." I lean down, grabbing my own, if she's gonna be comfortable, then I'm gonna be comfortable too.

Eyes cutting to the side she looks like she wants to say something else but decides against it. "See you in a few."

"I'll be waiting downstairs."

Because I need fresh air. I need to get away from eyes that see too much, a heart that is way too big for people like me, and the sweet smell of strawberry that follows her everywhere. Quickly changing my clothes, I burst through my front door panting, taking deep breaths into my lungs – reminding myself – for now I'm free, and the only person I owe anything to is myself. It'll hopefully help when I break her heart about the kind of man I really am.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Sorry if the update is really late, I really got busy this past week. This update is for you, CaitlynAllias4 and orlagho. Thank you. Actually, I am so surprised that there are still new readers that keep on coming.

To my old readers,  
thank you for your continuing support. I can't address you all individually, but the official lemon may be a few chapters away. The backstories need to be established first before they jump to bed. I think that's reasonable enough, so expect the next chapters to be their POVs of their past. I know, not everyone is a fan of backstories, but it's necessary to keep the plot moving. *For your special requests, I will see to it if I can (especially to ErJasandrea13's 'on a wall'request)

What do you think of this chapter?  
Yes, I included Anna as a character. I like her, but I am not an Annalogia shipper (Acnorene here!). It's interesting in Tumblr that there are Annarene/Annaleen shippers (I am not one), but I think it's a potential friendship to be explored. There are both moms with really amazing characterization - design, personality, and story. And for Irene, with awful presentation and ending, and I hope Anna won't end up like her. Anyways, in the canon, it's possible that they also know each other as both of them are connected with Zeref. Yea, so I'm into Annarene friendship.

In this story, as mentioned before, Irene doesn't have many friends of her own because most of them are only of her ex-husbands', so it's logical for Anna to be Erza's class adviser, for them to be close in that way. :) *And Anna is also a teacher in the canon anyways

Let me know what you think,

Leave a review!  
I don't expect this story will get new readers anymore, but I am very grateful for the reviews that keep on coming.


	15. A Changed Man

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

15

Irene

I hear the front door to his apartment slam, and my hands shake. I've never had the kind of reaction I have to Acno, to anyone else. It's like a current flowing through both of our bodies, an electrical jolt that would make my heart start beating again if it stopped. Nervousness courses through my body, and I try to examine why I'm nervous.

Because he's going to be honest with me.

Because I'm going to be honest with him.

I haven't opened myself up to a person in a long time. The last person I opened up to tried to use anything I ever told him to hurt me in the divorce proceedings. My brain knows that's the kind of man my ex was, but the irrational part cautions me against opening up to anyone else ever again. Even though it's lonely, it's easier that way; no one to hurt you in the long run.

But in the last year, I've started to feel the loneliness. Not all day, and not even every day, but it's there, in the back of my mind. It's there when I want to watch a non-kid movie when I want to have a drink after Erza goes to bed. I have to do it by myself and I want someone to share those moments with. Is that person Acnologia Belserion? I don't know, really I don't, but I'd be stupid not to at least give it a chance. We get along, he likes my daughter, and my daughter likes him.

Would it be so bad?

The voice inside my head tells me it would probably be so good, and then when we inevitably don't work out, all of us will be devastated. I tell that voice to shut the fuck up. I'm due for something amazing happening in my life. If my horoscope this morning was to be believed, I have to keep an eye out for it, I have to be open to it, for it to happen.

So here I am, opening myself up to this guy who a few weeks ago had no idea I or my daughter existed. If what he says doesn't send me running, I tell myself we'll go slow, we'll ease into whatever kind of relationship we're going to have. I'll make sure I do things for the right reasons this time. Hell, I'll just make sure I do things right.

But part of me thinks Acnologia Belserion could teach me to be so wrong and that would be so good. I shove the yearning down. Afterwards I'll decide, but for now, I'm all in. I'll listen with an objective ear, and I'll think before I speak. Just like I hope he does with me.

I brush my hair before I exit the bathroom. His cat sits on the back of the couch, eyeing me, judging me.

"Oh stop," I hiss at him. "You don't know how hard this is."

He lazily licks his paw, turns his head, and then diverts his eyes from me. Something tells me Alfred gives absolutely no fucks.

"Thanks for all your support," I throw over my shoulder as I go for the front door of the apartment. He meows before he hops off the couch and makes for the kitchen counter, bathing in the last of the sunlight of the day.

To have the life of a cat.

* * *

I take my time as I descend the steps into the back yard. I know what happens in the next few hours will change the direction of whatever it is Acno and I have built. It perhaps changes the relationship he's cultivated with Erza, and maybe it changes Acno's life, too. Maybe if he gets rid of whatever it is he's carrying, he can move on and be the kind of man he wants to be.

He's got a fire blazing in the pit. It's cold, getting colder every night, so I'm thankful for the warmth. It also gives a muted illumination to the area we'll be sitting in. It's always easier to be honest when the person you're speaking to can't really see your face. A cigarette dangles between his lips, and I see a couple of Coronas sitting out, two chairs sit next to one another.

"Before we start, I have to tell you about something that happened today. Some guy by the name of Z showed up? He was kind of an asshole, and he wants his starter back?" I'm not sure what went on between the two of them, but I feel like I need to tell him. If we're going to be honest with one another, I should tell him about what happened.

"Did he hurt you?!" Acno's voice is harsh but concerned, he tried to reach to inspect me, but he disengages, noting he doesn't know where to stand with our relationship, but his eyes says it all - fury, concern, alarmed.

"Tried to hurt my feelings," I shrug. It hadn't bothered me, well perhaps a little, but I truly believed what I'd told the kid.

"Shit," Acno runs a hand through and his hair. "That kid has been a rebellious one. His mom, a long time friend of mine, struggled since he was born. He was one-of-a-kind smart." I raised an eyebrow. He paused and continued. "...His mom said. But it made him a lot of enemies, dropped out of college because his professors are threatened by him."

"Smart? He seemed like his bark was a lot louder than his bite." I mean what I say, I've seen crappy people, and he looked like a kid playing at being a bad ass adult. Nothing at all like the real thing. And intelligent people are not measured by knowledge, but by good values and ethics. Take my ex-husband for example, smartass, but an asshole.

"It is," Acno agreed. "Truth is, he doesn't go home because he can't bear seeing his sickly little brother whom he is really close with. Natsu, his brother, is a little younger than Erza, he is a sickly kid, and they don't have the money for his medication. Zeref thinks he is of age now, and he sees the quick money you can get on the streets. He's gonna get mixed up in some shit he can't get out of."

I sighed don't know if I should be sympathetic because I could relate to that kid, but his foul mouth should not be tolerated. My disciplinarian motherly side came over.

"He'd be a good kid if someone would just take a chance on him. I'll see what I can do." Acno reassures. "I'll have a talk with him to whatever he said to you."

I have no doubt he will. His eyes are dark, that Zeref kid will surely get a taste of his own medicine.

Now that we've got that out of the way, I level him with a glance. "You good?" I ask, letting the sleeves of the hoodie he's given me engulf my hands. Another protective gesture, a way of shielding a piece of myself from his inquisitive gaze.

"Good as I'll ever be."

He grabs one of the beers, taking the metal top off with his bare hands. Putting the glass to his lips, he takes a healthy drink, draining almost half of it before he sits it down and opens mine. He hands it to me, motioning for me to take a drink.

"Go ahead, Irene, fortify yourself, because you're gonna need it. When I tell you my past, you're gonna question what the fuck you've been doing with me."

"The only thing I've been doing is getting to know you," I whisper, reaching out to take his hand in mine.

At the last second, he moves his fingers, so I can't grasp them. Running a hand over his face, he blows out a breath. "I wish that's all I've been doin' with you." I'm confused and I want to ask him what he means, but I know it's not the time. He's quickly losing patience with the whole thing if the way he's blowing out breaths indicates anything.

"I'm ready to listen if you're ready to talk," I tell him as I take a small drink from my bottle. I want to remember this, gauge his reaction, and be completely in control of myself when I hear what he has to tell me. I don't want anything to be misconstrued, or taken the wrong way.

"You know I wish I'd had a mom like you," he smiles sadly at me, a hint of a twinkle in his eyes. "One that put me first, the way you do Erza. Who cared if I had food, who cared if I had a roof over my head, but more than anything, who cared about who the fuck she brought around her child. That's one of the reasons I said yes to being paired with Erza," he shrugs, lifting a brow. "They told me you questioned it and wanted to pretty much know my credentials."

I laugh. "It wasn't completely like that, but I wanted to know if what you'd been arrested for, this vandalism thing, was something I needed to be worried about. The only thing Layla told me was you're a changed man and she'd trust her own child with you. That was enough for me, because I've grown to know her in the past year. She's been working with us a while, trying to get Erza matched with someone."

"You're gonna question if either one of you have the good sense God gave you," he licks his lips and rubs his hands over his thighs. "My mom wasn't like you. She wasn't a drug addict or anything like that, didn't abuse me in the traditional sense, and if anyone looked in from the outside, we would have seemed like a normal family. Poor as fuck, but for the most part, normal. My mom, was addicted to being taken care of," he gets up, rolling his head on his shoulders.

"You can go as slow as you want," I remind him. It hurts me to hear his painful memories, and they're obviously painful, because he looks like if he could rip his skin off, he would.

"She went from one man to another, looking for the one that would make her happy, the one that would make all her dreams come true. You know in the beginning, they all had money, because they wanted to impress her. My mom was pretty; I look a lot like her."

"You're definitely pretty," I break the tension, laughing softly. "That was one of the first things Layla told me about you – how gorgeous you are."

He blushes, and I love it, because it brings him down to my level. He has a seat again, and I can tell he's more comfortable.

"Anyway, when the money would run out, we'd move onto the next man. Sometimes though, it took us a while to find someone who would be willing to take us as a package deal. When that would happen, Mom would get a couple of side jobs, waitressing, etc. Her stable job is being a traditional midwife assistant, but money would be beyond tight. She was supposed to be a doctor, but everything went downhill when she became pregnant with me. Sometimes, I think she sees me as her mistake, but nevertheless, I am grateful she let me live, even the life is shitty." Acno deeply sigh, and chug a beer.

"When I was a teenager, I hit a huge growth spurt, shot up like a weed, and since we couldn't afford new clothes, I wore jeans that didn't fit. They were way too short for me, shirts that didn't completely cover my stomach, jackets that had no hope of coming to my wrists. I got real sick of being made fun of, and it only took me kicking a few asses for people to leave me the hell alone. I was big. I could pack on muscle without much work, and working out meant I didn't have to be in the shit trailer we lived in back then," he takes a deep breath.

"You don't have to go on," I can tell this is hard for him, his speech is clipped and tight, not at all like the rolling, loose words that normally fall from his lips.

"No, I do," he reaches for my hand. "If I want to be invited into your life, I owe this to you."

When he takes my hand, I love the way the callouses rub against the roughness of my own palm. Fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. I connect our fingers, entwining them, doing my best to hold him when I feel like he needs it.

"Fast forward a few years. I'm twenty-two, almost twenty-three, and I'm a hothead. I'm used to getting my way because I've been plowing through anyone who's told me 'no' for years. I'm trying to build up my business – that's when I first started my shop – and I'm trying to be everybody's buddy. Some people fucked me over back then, and I'm not gonna lie, I beat the shit out of them to prove a point. I go over to my mom's one afternoon. She's got a new dude, one that's got more money than the rest of them had, and he's also got a mouthy son."

He stops for a few minutes and I can see he's traveled back in time, he's in the memory. Using my other hand, I run it along his jaw, giving him the human touch he seems to have been missing for most of his life.

"That day, I took a friend of mine over there. A young kid who was kinda like me. Big, but didn't know where to put his strength, clothes didn't fit, all that shit. The son gets in my friend's face, making fun of him about wearing high-water pants and wearing a crop top shirt. My friend was embarrassed, and I kept telling the son to stop, it wasn't cool. You know my friend's family didn't have the money to clothe him, but they'd done the best with what they had. The son wasn't getting a rise out of my friend, so he started pushing my friend. That's all he wanted, was a rise."

I have a really bad feeling of how this is going to end, but I want him to finish the story. I want him to tell me in his own words what happened.

"I put a hand up to stop it, to tell the son to get the fuck out, and he clocks me, talking shit the entire time. In the blink of an eye, I'm back in that fucking high school where people are making fun of me, asking if I'm gay since I like to show my ass off, because my pants are so tight. Every single ridiculing remark came back to me in that instant, and I hit him and I kept hitting him. It didn't feel good, but I couldn't stop. It was like every single emotion I'd ever had of hatred, of embarrassment and never feeling good enough, erupted in that one moment. By the time my friend pulled me off of him, he was unconscious."

"Did you kill him?" I ask quietly, afraid of the answer.

"No," he shakes his head. I let out a breath I've been holding.

"But I fucked him up, badly. After all was said and done, I was charged and did a stint for three years in prison, and then two years in a rehab situation where I learned to control my anger. I knew right from wrong, no matter what my emotional scars were," he sniffs slightly. "I never should have done what I did. I never should have used my fists when I could have walked away."

I'm sniffing too, because I hear the real regret in his voice, the pain his decision caused him.

"I've not spoken to my mom since they hauled me away in cuffs. I have no idea what became of the dude, his son, or my friend. None of them have seen me since the night the altercation happened."

"Not even in court?" I run my hand along his back.

"They didn't come," he admits. "And I took my punishment like a man. It was the least I could do."

He breathes heavily, clearing his throat. "I guess my question for you, Irene, is does this change how you think of me? Does this change the way you look at me?"

I have to be honest with him.

"I truly believe people can change, because I've changed. I know what someone's capable of, but maybe you should tell me about the other charge. The reason you're in the program right now." I need to know he hasn't gone out and beaten someone else almost to death. I truly meant what I said, but I am worried, I know that what he was prisoned for was a long time ago, and I believe he has changed. But I need to make sure, and the recent charge will appease me. What if he was carried away by his emotions and anger again, and that he might hurt me, or Erza. Not my daughter. I need to know what me and Erza are getting into, especially I make the decisions for the both us. My heart openly welcomes this man, but I have to be rational. I learned that already from my ex-husband.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Thank you new reader reviewers, ROBINON, princezuko98 (thanks, that's sweet), and loveAd18 (thank you for that suggestion, I would look into it.)

Old readers, thank you for keep leaving reviews. I love reading them. :) So Acnos' backstory in Irene's POV, and Irene's backstory will be in Acno's POV.

BrilliantlyReckless: Oh, so you're curious about Irene's backstory. We'll get to know them next chapter. :)  
ErJasandrea13: How's Acno's Backstory? Oh, April 28 is noted. Perhaps, some official lemon chapter. ;)  
aesthetic umbrella: How'd you like this chapter?  
Kimchimustard: I will consider thinking about the lemon part. I miss little Erza too, probably one more chapter before we get to hear from her again.

Thank you everyone!  
Leave a review!


	16. Village Witch Girl

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

16

Acnologia

I'm so fucking raw after I've explained to her what originally got me in trouble, but I know I owe her the rest. "It's nothing like what happened the first time," I noticed how she let out a sigh of relief. I won't judge her if she's worried about it, she's just making sure. I run a hand under my nose. I can blame the cold on my nose running, but truthfully I get emotional when I talk about what I did. Nobody can ever punish me as much as I've punished myself.

"Thank God," she whispers, as she squeezes my hand.

"I run, every other day, it helps me keep my moods stable. If I'm pissed, sad, lonely, whatever, I either hop on the bike or run, but running helps more. This asshole down the street who runs the junkyard got a dog a few months ago. The prettiest little fawn Pitbull I've ever seen in my life. He had her tied up, and was feeding her raw meat, and all the shit dickheads seem to think they're supposed to do with junkyard dogs," he turns to face me. "I swear, every time I would run by her, she'd look up at me with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. It was like she was begging me to get her out of the shitty situation she was in. One day, I had enough, I went back to the shop, got some wire cutters and broke her out."

"You got arrested for stealing a dog?" She looks like she's trying not to laugh, and it's nice after the heavy discussion we've just had.

"The fence he had was some expensive galvanized bullshit and cost more than most foreign cars. Because of the price, I was hit with felony trespassing, which violated my probation. And when I went to take the dog, he threw shit at me, I threw shit at him, we shared some words, and I may have picked him up by his shirt and slammed him into a brick wall. Seriously though, who mistreats an animal like that? I know it's not an excuse, but it's a hot button issue for me. Which is why I'm here now."

"Wow," she lifts her beer, draining the whole bottle.

"I know it's a lot to take in," I don't want her to make a snap decision, I don't want her to have heard about the old, angry Acnologia, and think I haven't changed. I have, and I feel like I'm proving it every time I'm allowed to hang out with Erza. More than anything, the way the little girl trusts me is the best feeling in the world.

"Please don't make a quick decision about me," I beg her. The desperation in my voice is embarrassing, but it's the rawest I've ever been.

"I believe people can change, Acnologia. I've changed, and I try not to take people on their pasts. Since I met you, you've been nothing but gracious and polite. I have a hard time believing you're the type of man that could beat someone as badly as you did."

"That Acnologia grew up, matured, and realized life isn't promised. It wasn't easy. When I went to prison, I was still angry, so fucking angry. I wondered why in the hell my mom had never given me the tools to one day be a productive member of society, why I felt like I had to use people all the time – because that's what she did. I learned pretty early on, in my stint, my story wasn't the worst on my block and I wasn't the only one who hadn't had mom of the year material. I also learned really quickly that if I wanted to be different, I had to change me; no one was going to do it for me. So when they offered me the additional time in an anger rehabilitation center, I took it. To be honest, I was scared to come out on my own, what if someone pissed me off again? How was I going to react? I couldn't go through being locked up again."

"You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."

"Don't," I yank my hand away from hers. "Don't act like I should be applauded because I made a grown-up decision."

"I'm not," she curls into her chair, pulling her feet up so she can wrap her arms around her knees. "I'm telling you, I know it wasn't easy, yet you still managed to do it. Fuck, it took me years to be able to make a grown-up decision and get my ass out of my situation. And for me to get out of it? I still had to have it thrown in my face what an asshole my husband was."

"So is this where you tell me your story, say goodbye, and head on home. I never see you and Erza again and I'm left with Alfred the cat?"

"Erza's decided the cat's name is Tux, since he looks like he's wearing a tuxedo. She thinks it's cooler than Alfred."

"She's got me there," I reach out, tipping her chin up with my fingers. "Now answer my question."

"I'm going to tell you my story, because that's what we agreed on, but I'm not saying goodbye and heading home. I think tonight, I'm gonna stay here, and you're gonna show me exactly how much you've changed. I'm open to giving you a chance, Acnologia, if you're open to giving me one. Life isn't black and white. There are a ton of gray areas, and if I judged everyone based on their pasts, I'd not be teaching my daughter the right thing, now would I?"

Can't fucking argue with that logic. "I'm ready to listen when you're ready to talk," I repeat the words she spoke to me earlier.

"At least I know you pay attention to what I say," she offers me a smile. Grasping the hood of the sweatshirt she's wearing, she pulls it up over her head.

Looks like I'm not the only one who's self-conscious about spilling my guts. She's hiding, and I'll let her do it, but not for long.

"I don't even know where to begin," she reaches in and takes a drink from her almost empty bottle.

"You want another? I think I'm gonna have another. If you're not driving, why not?"

She nods, and I realize maybe it's as hard for her to admit her truth as it was for me to admit mine. Our truths are both vastly different, because I'm pretty fucking sure she hasn't beaten the shit out of another human being, but it's obvious our pasts have affected us greatly. Getting up, I jog to the back door of the shop, reaching inside the Yeti I keep there, I pull two more bottles out, before making my way back over to our fire. I have a seat again, using a stick to stir the burning embers.

"I was a lot like you," she finally speaks. "My mom didn't have a lot of money, and I lived on what everybody called the wrong side of the tracks. My dad split when I was young, so it was just me and my mom. I don't even have any real memories of him, I've only seen a picture once. We live in a small hut in a small village. We have a garden, and we sell flowers, fruits, vegetables," she chuckles bitterly, "and these traditional herbs for a living." "Because of that, I was teased by kids in our village for being a witch."

"One day, my mom became ill terribly, and she couldn't maintain the shop. I continued selling for her medication, even I was teased by the kids, and I don't have a real friend. But my mom was taken away from me early, I was an orphan at 9. They took me to a city orphanage. Nobody wanted to adopt me, and nobody wanted to be friends with a village witch girl."

"I think being friends with a village witch girl is a kickass." She heartily laughs.

"Nah, having no friends became my advantage, I got a lot of time to read during their playtime. I took interest in designing, coloring, painting, and the like. And I guess, I was smart and creative enough, and the orphanage took a chance with me. They supported my education. Then I grew up quick, and right out of graduating high school, the orphanage couldn't support me anymore, and I'd gotten my first 'big girl' job. Ya know, the one where you have to buy actual work clothes. I bought my first heels, my first expensive lipstick, and I figured out how to fix my hair and cross my legs without showing my underwear. It was that kind of job. The orphanage sent me away, thinking I could fend off for myself. The first few months went by and no one really even knew I was there. I flew under the radar; no one knew my name, and I was good with that. Perfect, really, because then I had no expectations to fulfill for others. I go to college, aiming for a design degree, do my job, and went home at night in a small apartment I've rented," she looks off into the fire, pulling the strings on the hood, tightening it around her like a shield.

This must be her version of closing herself off, and while I hate she's doing it, I understand. We all have memories and times of our lives which bring us to a vulnerable point in our lives. I can tell pretty easily this is hers.

"A couple months after I started in my job, I was in the breakroom, grabbing coffee. I was bent over in the fridge, looking for the French vanilla creamer I'd been stealing for the last month, and when I came up, I bumped into him, spilling creamer all over his immaculate black shirt."

I can see Irene doing it, the flush of her cheeks, the sexy throaty giggle that probably escaped as she tried to be serious and apologize. "Was he pissed?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Shouta Aizawa, laughed. It was so unexpected, I laughed, too. Even though I'd laughed at my blunder, at the same time I knew who he was and immediately scared to death I would be losing my job."

She gets quiet, and starts picking at the nail polish on her fingers. I can't tell by looking at her if these are good or sad memories. "We dated for six months," she lifts her eyes up, showing me the tears that have gathered. This is obviously painful even if she's for the most part put it behind her. "Within a week of him proposing we got married. It was all such a whirlwind, but with him being older, he kept assuring me he knew what he wanted," she licks her lips and sighs heavily.

"Since I was younger, and I'd never in my life witnessed the opulence in which he lived, it was all like a fairytale for me. He treated me like a princess. He didn't let me do work anymore, and he made me give up my design degree, he said I won't need it, and he will just spoil me, I loved him so I agreed. I had designer clothes, awesome shoes, and a nice car," the whimsical smiles leaves her face. "Then reality set in. What had been so exciting became my worst nightmare as soon as a baby came into the mix."

She's quiet again, and I can almost see her gathering her thoughts.

"Things were good between us until I started talking about wanting a baby. It wasn't something we talked about before we got married, and to not talk about it was stupid on both our parts. He didn't want kids, and I did. When there was a snafu with my birth control and I ended up pregnant – it was the beginning of the end. He thought I trapped him, I thought he was a cold dickhead. However, I kept seeing glimpses of the man he'd been before Erza, and I knew he had the capacity to love her. Every once in a while, I'd see him look at her with a soft smile on his face, but it wouldn't last long. He couldn't get out of his own head and away from his day job long enough to form a bond with her. I was wrong about everything. It never happened, he's never told our daughter he loves her," she wipes under her eyes. "He stopped telling me too, but I kept holding out, hoping the man I'd fallen so in love with wasn't a calculating bastard. But he became really controlling, especially with my emotions and affection, always wanting me to be the perfect trophy wife. The last three months before I filed for divorce were hell. When you withhold love and sex from someone as a bargaining tool, it's the worst thing you can do. In the end, he made the decision for me; fucking his secretary was a hard limit for me. I don't share."

"Fuck," I breathe, because I can't believe someone wouldn't celebrate Erza and wouldn't want these two ladies in their life. I mean who would give them up?

"Yeah," she lets out a deep breath. "The divorce crippled me, but I think it was mostly because I felt like a fucking failure. The thing that's the biggest dig? I didn't have the most stable childhood, and knowing I had a house to live in that I didn't have to worry about meant everything to me. He made me sell that damn house, because he knew he could," she clears her throat.

"Making Erza's room was my dream, you think what I do now is amazing? With the unlimited budget I had, her room was a castle. I designed and painted it myself. The night we put the house on the market, I had to re-paint it a neutral color. Imagine that, a fucking neutral color. I cried the entire time. Not only were my dreams gone, but so was my self-esteem. I should have gotten the affection I craved. I should have been good enough to love, even if things didn't work out the way he'd planned. It was my job to protect Erza, and I didn't. She might end up like me. She's gonna carry that abandonment for the rest of her life."

"Not if I can help it," my voice is strong, because I truly believe in what I'm saying. "And what about you? You gave eight years of your life to a man, who took your love in his palm, flipped it over, and stomped it in the fucking ground. He shit on everything you gave him, he's not worth feeling guilty over. If he doesn't want Erza, don't let her sweat it, let someone else who does in."

What the fuck am I saying? There's a noise in my head, cautioning me from making statements I can't keep.

"Acno," she smiles sweetly. "That's nice, but neither one of us know where this going to go. You might decide in a week this isn't what you want."

"Or I might decide in a week this is what I want forever. Neither one of us can predict the future."

She licks her lips and looks out at the fire before she turns those brown eyes back on me. "What I think is things have gotten heavy here tonight. We're both emotional, and maybe we need to let things be what they will. We'll make no promises, and we'll see how it goes. In the end, we'll figure out how to explain things to Erza if it doesn't work."

"You're giving me an out," I accuse her.

"No, I'm giving me an out this time."

There's a lot of things I want to say to her, but we've both probably said too much tonight. I think with Irene, I'm going to have to show her. Words can only get me so far with her; actions are going to be the way in, and I'm good with that, because I'm a man of action.

"C'mon, let's go upstairs, it's been a long day," I hold my hand out to her as I stand up.

The fire has died, only coals are left, and I realize how chilly it's gotten as she stands and puts her hand in mine. Her fingers are like ice. "Jesus," I grasp both her hands. "Why didn't you tell me you were cold?"

"I didn't know I was until I grabbed your hand."

"Let's go inside and warm up," my voice is low, but I don't want to seduce her, not tonight. Not after everything we've shared. I close my eyes, and try to turn that part of myself off, but all I really want is some damn affection.

Turning so that she walks up the stairs before me, Irene gives a look over her shoulder. "Sounds good to me."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Irene's backstory y'all. How was it?

Happy Anniversary, Irene Belserion! I love you so much. Hope you'd get the character presentation you've deserved. Hope Mashima would redeem you.

Thank you everyone for your continuing support! Reviews up for those who love our Queen, Irene. :D

Leave a review!


	17. Warm Up

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

17

Irene

My knee shakes as I sit on the couch in Acnologia's living room. The damn cat has taken the seat next to me and keeps looking up at me. I swear he's taunting me. Five minutes ago, Acno asked me if I wanted to shower first, and when I said no, he went into the bathroom and shut the door. I can hear the water, and my imagination's running wild.

I don't want to have sex with him tonight, it's too soon, but dear Jesus it's been a long time for me, and the man is hot. Not to mention the emotional baggage we laid out for each other earlier. I just need some human contact. I need someone to hold me, I want to feel someone's lips against mine, fingers digging into my flesh. I'm raw, and I don't want to deal with the emotional fallout of my past by myself. I've been doing that for such a long fucking time. There's a bottle of Jim Beam on Acno's counter, a sign I should do what I'm thinking of doing.

Getting up, I march over to it, rip the top off, and take a fortifying drink. I haven't been meek for a long time. I took my own business by the horns and I'm making it work. I'm raising my daughter on my own and I'm kicking ass at it. If I want this, I need to go after it, and I don't need to let any of the insecurities prickling at the back of my brain stop me.

The shower is still on, but I have to wonder for how much longer. I've sat and stewed forever on what I want to do. Mind finally fucking made up, I start undressing as I make my way to the bathroom, and by the time I get to the door, I'm naked. My clothes are a trail of my thought process - a pile of them here and there. My hand shakes as I reach forward, turning the knob slowly. I'm half expecting it to be locked, but when the door opens, I know this is it. This is my sign. If it had been locked, I would have turned around, put my clothes back on, and probably ran home. Not now, not when everything points to this moment being it.

I can't see his outline against the shower curtain because it's a dark navy blue, made of heavy plastic. Taking a shot in the dark, I walk over, grasping the end and pulling it slightly back.

"Holy shit!" He jumps as he feels the curtain move.

It gives me enough room to climb in. I fight every instinct in my head screaming at me to cover myself, to not leave myself exposed. Finally, I feel calm enough that I can speak. "I can turn around, walk out of here, and pretend like this never happened if that's what you want." It's not what I want, but I never again want to force my opinions and ideas on someone else. I want us to come to a mutually beneficial agreement.

When he doesn't say anything for longer than I feel comfortable, I turn to leave.

"No," his hand tightens around my bicep. "Don't leave," he shakes his head. "I just never expected you to be standing her like this. I dreamed it," he smiles widely. "Literally, last night I dreamed it."

"Seriously?" I can't believe he's been dreaming about me.

"Woke up with my dick in my hand, coming all over my stomach, if you want the absolute truth, Irene."

Wow. That escalated quickly and it wasn't at all what I expected. I snap to attention because it occurs to me, for the first time, I get to see him. Really see him. He's not covered up because we're somewhere with Erza. Finally, I get to see all the parts he hides of himself from the world.

"Look your fill," he pushes his hair back against the water streaming down from above him.

Doing just as he's told me to do, I see exactly what Layla told me when she said he was gorgeous. He's strong, lean, inked, and fucking beautiful. I've never seen him without a shirt on before, so I'm seeing the chest piece he sports, and it is magnificent. I've never really been the type to get into men because they have tattoos, but on Acno, it's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Artwork covers his entire chest, sleeves cover his arms, but it's the chest piece I keep coming back to. A skull on top of a dragon. It accentuates the strength of his core, the strength of the man standing in front of me. My gaze slides down his body, following the path of the water.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his green eyes are hooded, darker than normal.

"I think the question I need to ask you, is do you like what you see?" I have a large angular scar that runs vertically on my left belly, I've never been completely comfortable with my body, and even though I'm in pretty good shape, I'm still self-conscious.

He steps forward, touching me, tracing the scar.

"Messed up c-section scar after I gave birth to Erza," I shifted uncomfortably.

"It's beautiful." He kneels down and traces it with kisses. I gazed down at him, holding onto his hair.

"S-stop. I'm conscious about it."

He stands up, and leans to my ear. "It's a battle scar. It makes you look sexier."

One hand curls around my hip, the other goes into my hair, and we're touching. Our bodies are smashed together from top to bottom, I can feel the muscle of his stomach, and thighs against mine. My nipples peak as they rub against the hardness of his chest, and when I gaze up at him, he's leaning towards me. Licking his lips, and moving in, because by God, we're finally going to kiss. My fingers dent his biceps as I pull him closer to me, as I let myself melt into his strength.

"Fuck Irene, if you don't want this, you can tell me. Right now I can stop, but once I have a taste of you, I'll know, and I won't be able to go back. Last chance."

His breath is hot on my face, and the steam from the shower is creeping around us, giving a feeling that we're in a place where only the two of us exist. And I want to be here, with him, more than I've ever wanted to be anywhere in my life. "I want this. Please…I'm starving for you."

The words are true - my mouth is watering, my body is aching, and my lips are tingling.

What I imagined would be a slow, sensual push, because that's how Acno's treated me this whole time – almost like he was afraid I would leave – is a collision of heat and lust. His fingers grip my hair, my fingers grip his flesh, and when our lips meet, I groan. It's a surrender I hadn't planned on, but one I'm glad to give. Immediately his tongue invades, sweeping against my mouth, branding me as his. I welcome it, crave the invasion as I grip him harder, trying to keep my knees from locking, and when I have to move my hands up to his neck, closing my arms tightly there, he lifts me. Opening to him, it's no surprise we fit perfectly together as I wrap my legs around his waist. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pull roughly, wanting to climb inside, wanting him to wear my imprint too. Our teeth smash as he directs me which way to turn, but I try to take control. In the end, I give it up, and push my head back against the ceramic of the shower. When I tilt my neck, he attacks; biting, licking, sucking, and scratching. Nothing about Acnologia Belserion is going to be sweet and soft. I wondered going in, but now I know for sure – he'll own me, he'll play me like an instrument, and he'll leave me feeling more satisfied than I ever have in my life.

Fuck yeah, I'm so ready for the challenge.

* * *

Acnologia

I've had a lot of women in my life. Some of them I truly cared about, some of them were there for one night to keep my bed warm, or to make sure I wasn't lonely for a few hours. None of them have made me breathless with the first kiss. Not one, and as I pull away from her neck, I'm panting like I've run a damn marathon.

She slips slightly against my hold, and I press my hand against the shower, tightening my other arm around her. "Goddamn, woman," I breathe deeply, her scent rushing through my pleasure receptors. I love this scent, it's everything she is. Strawberry with a hint of spice. I've never thought of a more accurate description of the woman I'm holding in my arms right now. And knowing she came to me? Fuck, that does everything to me, makes me feel like I'm fucking bulletproof.

Picking her up against me, I turn around to cut the water off. If I'm going to do this with her, it's going to be somewhere I'm not scared I'm gonna break a bone or pull a muscle. Letting go of her neck has opened mine up to her, and she's marking me much like I marked her. Using my palm, I nudge her closer to my neck, letting her know I'm loving what she's doing to me. Thank God my apartment's small, and we don't have to go far. I kick the door shut, hoping to keep Alfred, or Tux, or what-the-fuck-ever you want to call him out, and set her down on the bed.

Irene is a fucking hot woman; she's got the girl-next-door appeal with the sexiest bedroom eyes I've ever seen. When she gazes up at you, the brown gets golden deeper, and it makes you want to figure out what the fuck she's thinking. "You good?" I ask, because I want to make sure I'm not putting her in a situation she doesn't want to be in.

Getting up on her knees, she gazes back at me, meeting my stare with one of her own. "I know you don't do promises, but promise me this doesn't change how you feel about Erza."

She's killing me here. Taking my heart out and stomping on it, for her to think this would make me pull away from her daughter. But then I have to remember where she's coming from, the man who left her, and why she's even in my life, in the first place.

"None of this changes anything with her," I put my hand over my heart. "No matter what happens between us, that's the one thing I can promise you. I won't punish her; I won't put her in the middle." I'm about to really put myself out there with my next words. "You promise me the same thing."

"Without a doubt," her voice is quick to match mine. "I don't want her hurt again, and I'll be damned if I'm the one doing it."

"Anything else we need to get out there?" I ask, wanting to make sure we're on the same page.

"No sex tonight," her voice is small, but strong as she speaks.

"What?!" A little piece of my manhood shrivels up and dies, but I can understand where she's coming from. "We can do other stuff though, right? Cause that kiss?" I groan, throwing my head back as I let my hand drop to my hard cock, palming it, offering it a little bit of relief.

"Yeah," she licks her lips as she watches me. "I'm just not ready for that yet. I'm not on birth control, and…"

I cut her off. "You don't have to explain shit to me. All I have to know is sex is going to happen."

"It's most definitely going to happen," she moves on the bed, towards me. "C'mere," she crooks her finger.

I like this playful side of her, the side I've never gotten to see before. "Irene," I cup her cheeks as I stand in front of her. "What do you want?"

"You to let me do something I've thought about doing since I saw you," she answers easily, the words flowing from her mouth.

"What's that?"

She reaches down, puts her small hand around my cock and strokes towards her, then towards me – pulling and stroking as her eyes look into mine. "I wondered what it would take to bring you to your knees," she admits as she bends on her knees, taking me in her mouth.

"Fuckin' hell," the words fall from my throat as the heat of her mouth envelopes me. It's a struggle not to thrust against her mouth, fuck her face, and do all the dirty things I wanna do. We aren't in that stage of our relationship yet; I need to try and hold that part of myself back a little.

Up, down, in, out – her mouth moves, slicking me with her saliva, letting me slide further down her throat. "Irene," I hiss, opening my eyes wide when she uses one had to grab my hip, pulling me closer. It's then I see her ass, tilted up, her thighs spread against the comforter covering the bed. Holding her head to steady her, I bend, grasping her ass before reaching under her and using two fingers to tease her clit. Jesus Christ she's wet. I don't think I've ever felt anyone as wet as she is. "Damn, you're ready for this, aren't you?"

Moaning against my cock, she nods her head. She's sucking cock like a champ - who am I to deny her the pleasure she's giving me? Using my index and middle fingers I rub against her engorged nub, spreading the slickness along the path down to where her body immediately grips those two fingers.

"Oh God," she pulls off my cock. It bobs in front of us, trying to get back to her mouth, but she's let her head drop, thrusting against my fingers.

"Feel good?" I cup her chin, tilting it so I can look in her eyes, so I can feed her my hardness again.

"Yeah," she answers before her tight lips take me back in.

"You do that, I'll do this," I use my thumb to tease her clit as I pump my fingers into her heat, twisting my wrist at the end, to give her a bump of my palm.

My knees shake, my thighs are locked as she goes for it. Sliding up and down both my cock and my fingers, moaning as I hit the spot she appears to love, the vibrations pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I can tell when she's close, because she starts fucking my fingers faster. I pick up the pace before letting go of her chin so I can reach down to let one of her tits rest in the palm of my other hand. Denting the flesh, I pull roughly on the nipple, giving her a little of the not-so-sweet I sometimes like. She groans against me, letting me slip further against the back of her throat, and that's it.

I come. Harder, faster, and stronger than I ever have before. Spurting down her throat, I open my mouth, intending to scream, or groan, or praise her. Exactly which I'm not sure, but nothing comes out, because she's sucked the life completely out of me. I'm having a hard time locking my knees, hoping like hell I don't fall over.

No woman has ever pushed me this far. None of them have ever made me come like this, have made me feel like this. The feeling, the full-body release I feel, is nothing I've ever experienced, and I wonder what the fuck I've been doing with my life that I haven't felt this way before.

Before I'm done, I feel her pussy gripping my fingers. She's coming, too.

And then we're left with the aftermath of what we've done. I'm standing with my mouth hanging open, trying to catch my breath.

"Regrets?" I ask as the two of us try to pull ourselves together.

Her thighs are still shaking; my hands are trembling as I run them through my hair and try to get my wayward heart to stop beating like it's a horse galloping over the prairie. I can't tell if I'm excited about what just happened, or if I'm scared she doesn't ever want to do it again. I'll respect whatever the answer is, but after having the taste I just got, I want more. I want more like yesterday.

"None," she smiles shyly up at me.

I'm for real the luckiest man in the world right now. I yank the covers back and motion for her to climb in before I walk bare-ass naked into the living room, check the door, and come back in. She's still sitting up when I enter, her eyes wide.

"You don't want me to go home?"

"No," and the answer I'm about to give her is the most truth I've spoken in years. "It'll be really nice to keep you with me. Tonight, neither one of us will be alone, and we'll see how the future goes."

If anyone understands those words, I know it's her.

"I like to sleep on the left," she grins. "And I don't like to sleep naked."

"You're mostly in luck. I like to sleep on the right, but I do like to sleep naked."

She laughs. "By all means, keep your hot body uncovered, but I'd love a shirt."

I give her one, and for the first time in years, when I go to bed, I have a smile on my face. All because of the woman tucked into my side.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Heyyy, so here's what we've all been waiting for, but not really that official lemon. But as what Irene said, "It's most definitely gonna happen."  
I couldn't wait to share this chapter to y'all.  
How was it?

Shoutout to my constant reviewers! I really appreciate y'all. XOXO

BrilliantlyReckless: Ha. Irene made the move to warm herself up. ;) You had the last scene cuddle right.  
ErJasandrea13: This chapter is a late celebration gift.  
Nyx Necro: Let us hope though, especially with the neo-timelapse.

Leave a review!


	18. This Could Be The Family We Wanted

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

18

Irene

"How are things going with Acnologia?" Layla stares at me, and I swear she can tell just by looking, that Acno and I have been spending time together. It's almost like she knows I've been having inappropriate thoughts. Not that we've done anything inappropriate yet, but after spending the night with him, I've done nothing but think about everything we could do to each other. All. the. Time. Giving him a blow job and him getting me off wasn't inappropriate, right? We're both consenting adults, both sure of what we were doing with one another.

Why do I feel like I'm lying to my mother after being out with my boyfriend the night before? Can she see the fucking hickey I have on my neck?

"Good," I answer, nodding. I figure offering as little info as possible is the best way to not blow our cover. She seems super intuitive to anything and everything. The last thing I want to do is get someone else involved in a relationship that neither I nor Acnologia is prepared to put a label on yet.

"He and Erza are getting along?"

"They get along really well." My tone is too bright; she's going to know we have something going on. She's going to know I spent the night with him. Damn I'm an awful liar. I know this. Why the fuck did I think I could lie to her?

"Their first meeting was a little touch and go," she reminds me.

"It was," I agree. "But it's been a little over a month, and they seem to have an understanding of one another. She asked him to come to her aikido lesson, and he did. I never thought she'd ask anyone else to come after her dad said he would and then never showed up. The invitation was a big move on her part and for him to come through has done more for her than anything else has."

Layla cocks her head to the side, staring at me. "You and Acnologia are getting along too, aren't you?" She picks at a piece of lint on her stockings. "There's not a rulebook, there are no bylaws which say you can't see him, Irene," her voice is soft, like she's afraid she's going to scare me by speaking the words.

"I know," I swallow hard, unexpected tears coming to my eyes. "Oh fuck," I bite my bottom lip trying to staunch the flow.

"What's wrong?" She puts her hand out, grabbing mine, holding on tightly. I do not let other people see me cry, even Erza, especially Erza, but everything's been too much for me lately. Acno all of a sudden came to our lives, and changing it drastically. I'm thankful because I need an anchor in my life right now, from a very few friends that I could only count in one hand.

"I'm scared," I admit for the first time. The tears fall slowly, streaking down my face. "I'm really scared. Completely and totally terrified."

Her tone is soft as she cocks her head to the side, letting go of my hand as she hands me a tissue. "Why?"

How do I explain what I'm feeling to someone who's never been in the situation I've been in? "What if I wrap myself up in this guy, wrap my daughter up in his life, and he turns around and does the same thing to me my husband did?"

"What exactly did your husband do?" I've never told her so it's not unusual for her to ask, and if I'm going to start, I might as well start from the beginning.

"Ruined my life." It's dramatic, I know, but I still feel as if it's an honest assessment of the shit storm he put me in.

"Irene, I can't help if you don't let me in," she presses gently.

"Do you have a therapy degree too or something?" I shoot her a look, one that normally makes people stop prying.

She grins, settling in as she pulls one of her feet underneath her. "I do, so you're stuck with me."

Everybody keeps telling me I should go to a therapist, maybe now's the time. "I'm only getting into this once, don't even think this'll become a standing appointment or anything like that," I warn, because that's not what I want. It's never been what I wanted. I did the whole marriage counseling thing with him, and it didn't help anything. All it succeeded in doing was make me feel like even more of a bitch than I already did.

"I don't practice," she holds her hands up in front of her. "But I'll listen to you all day long."

"I loved my husband," I start out, because those words are true. "But the further away I get from the marriage, I realize I was in love with the idea of being married," I confess for the first time. I've thought about this a lot over the last few months, tried to analyze what I did wrong, where I went wrong, and what I could have done different, and I keep coming back to the same conclusion. "If I take out all the hurt, all the sadness, and all of the finger-pointing, I can understand why he cheated on me. Is that an awful thing to say?"

"No, but why don't you explain?"

My thoughts are jumbled, and I try to take a moment to get them situated. I don't want to sound like a rambling idiot. "I wasn't all-in with my marriage. After we had Erza, the way he looked at me changed and I knew it. He didn't see me as a wife anymore; he saw me as a mom. He never wanted me to be a mom. We argued over whether or not to try and start a family. He didn't give in, he didn't get to decide. I got pregnant because of a birth control mishap, so the power went to me, but before that? He held it completely over my head. The decision was to be his and his alone. Am I making sense?"

"He held having a child over you, like it was a bargaining chip?" She raises her eyebrows and readjusts her sitting position.

"Yeah, and I knew, in the back of my mind, I knew. If I had her, if I succeeded in making the family I wanted, I'd lose him, but I did it anyway. I thought I could change him, though. I thought after we brought her home, and he saw what a joy she was to our lives, he'd change his mind. He didn't, and I let my life revolve around her. I made myself available to her whenever she wanted or needed me," I stop and frown because I realize how sad I sound.

"You made the mistake of a lot of mothers; you didn't include the father."

"But he didn't want to be included - I knew that when I got pregnant - so it shouldn't have surprised me when we stopped sleeping together and I heard he was fucking his secretary."

"How'd Erza take it?"

I'm quiet, because this is probably my greatest regret, my biggest mistake when it came to deciding to bring a child into the world. "Awful, my daughter's really loving and kind. And even no matter what, she loved her dad. Everything about him, she loved. It didn't matter if he gave her a lot of attention or a little attention, she absorbed it all, and when it was gone, it was gone. When he left, we had to sell the house because I couldn't afford it on my own. I'll be damned if I was going to ask him for anything."

"Oh Irene," she soothes.

I cry harder, because it's time I face the facts. I put us into this situation, and that's why I work so hard to get us out of it. When we're able to move into a new apartment, when we're able to buy extra for ourselves, it'll be because I did it, and not because my ex-husband paid me child support. "So in the end, I'm responsible for Erza losing her dad, her life, her home, and her sense of family. I'm the worst kind of mother."

"But what about what you lost, Irene?"

"It shouldn't matter what I lost," I argue, my shoulders shaking as I take a deep breath and begin to calm down.

"You lost your family." Her voice is quiet, and in the stillness of the room, it drops like a mic. She's right, I did – and the bitch of it is? I never really had it to begin with. It was all a lie, one I fabricated to make a life I was never going to have.

"I never had it to begin with." My voice is monotone, the crying over. Reality is again setting in.

"But you wanted it."

"God, I did," I run my hands over my jean-clad thighs, trying to get some of my anxiety out. "I tried to force my views on someone who never wanted them, and then I got butt hurt when it didn't work out."

"I don't think that's what happened at all," she argues. "You got married, you wanted a family, and the man you chose to spend the rest of your life with didn't want the same things you did. It's not out of the realm of possibility that you ask him to live your dream with you."

"I did, and he said no. He decided to find another woman who's also not into kids, and together they're going to live their life. I should be happy for him."

"Oh fuck that," Layla mumbles.

I'm surprised to hear those words coming out of her mouth, and a choked giggle bursts from my throat. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Don't be happy for him. Regardless of what he wanted, he's got a beautiful daughter who's intelligent and kind, and years from now he'll want a relationship with her, and there'll be nothing there for him to build on."

Putting my thumb up to my mouth, I bite my nail. "The question for me now, is how far do I let Acno into my life?"

"How far do you want to let him in?"

"All the way," is out before I can stop it. "And that's what scares me."

* * *

As I get in my car, I turn on the radio louder than I normally do. I feel like I need to run away from my thoughts a bit. Layla asking the questions she did, makes me wonder if I'm ready for Acno. Am I ready to open myself up again and let another man in. I told Layla I wanted to let him in all the way, but can I? Do I?

I know without a doubt the answer to those questions is yes. Never in my life has anyone made me feel the way he does. It's this nervousness in my stomach, a shakiness in my hands, and a thumping in my heart.

If I'm honest with myself, the part I'm worried about is if we'll last. How long can I expect him to put up with a child that's not his and a woman with her guard up.

"You've gotta let your guard down Irene," I say out loud to myself.

It's true. He's given me a piece of himself and I need to give him a piece of myself. It's not fair to keep asking him to give when I'm not willing to meet him half-way. Do I know we'll last forever? No, but if there's one thing I've learned – there are no guarantees in life. My only fear is Erza getting her heart set on us being a family, but I also realize she'll more than likely do that with any man in my life.

"I'm gonna do it," I grip the steering wheel tighter, mind made up.

There's a smile on my face as I drive to pick up Acno and Erza. A real smile I haven't showed to the world in a very long time.

* * *

Acnologia

"All right Sprite, which one are we getting?"

Irene's let us come hang out at a pumpkin patch while she meets with Layla. I'm nervous with her by myself, but I'm grateful Irene trusts me enough to have alone time with Erza. Halloween is coming up, and we're picking out a couple of pumpkins. I think Sprite's grown a foot since the last time I saw her a few days ago. How can her dad not realize what he's missing out on?

"We need three," she puts her hands out in front, counting on her fingers. "One for me, one for you, and one for Mom."

"Then we'll get three." Damn good thing she rode with her mom, because all those aren't going to fit on my bike. "You ever carved one of these things before?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Last year we painted ours, but this year I wanna carve it. I saw this show on TV where a family got together and did it."

So that's what this is about. She wants something normal, and who doesn't? She's a little kid who hasn't had a normal life in what seems to be a few years.

"Well, Sprite, we can definitely do it. We can make some more s'mores and hang out with Alfred in the back yard."

"His name's Tux," she argues, and I grin down at her.

Her small hand is in mine, and I pull hard on her, pulling her up into my arms. There's a lot of people around, and it makes me nervous. She's important and special, and I would never want to lose her or let anyone hurt her. "His name is Alfred," I push her glasses up further on her nose.

"They fall down too much," she squints at me.

"Have they always done that?"

She shakes her head. "No."

They fall down again, I push them back up. "Maybe we need to talk to your mom about them not fitting."

"I don't want to cost her any more money," she whispers.

My heart fucking breaks, because I'm sure Erza's heard Irene talking to other people about her financial situation, or maybe Irene's talked to her about it without meaning to. Kids pick up on so much shit, and to know this sweet girl is wearing ill-fitting glasses because she doesn't want to cause problems for her mom is killing me. Fucking killing me.

"I think she'll be fine with it, Sprite. It's not a big deal, and I think your mom will be more upset that you haven't told her than anything. You know I don't do promises, but I bet she'll be glad you told her."

Erza throws her arms around my neck and hugs me. It's enough to almost knock me off my game, to almost bring me to my knees.

"I feel safe with you, Acky. I don't care what you did."

"Did they tell you what I did?"

She looks like she's in trouble, hiding her face. "I heard Mom talking about it to Ms. Anna. She was worried what your reputation would do to me. But I don't know what a reputation is. All I know is you're my friend and I like spending time with you."

I wish everyone else felt the same way she does and I decide quickly she doesn't need to know what I've done. In her eyes, it's easy to explain, and maybe right now what I need is easy too. "That means a lot to me, Erza. Thank you." I'm trying to keep it together here, trying not to let this little girl know how much she's slayed me, clearing my throat to get the emotion out.

"Can we pick out our pumpkins now?"

"Yeah we can," I laugh, because it's the only thing I can do. Studying her features, damn, she really is a mini-Irene – a total package, seems like she doesn't share any features from her dad which I am grateful for. And good god, she's looking more and more beautiful each day, like her mom. In a few, many boys will be kissing the ground she walks on. Then I decided, no boyfriend 'til she's 30.

Leaning down, I kiss her on the cheek, realizing for the first time I wish she was mine. I'd teach her all about love, and dare some fucking prick to hurt her. "Let's go, Mom should be here soon." I said as if we're a family, which I've realized what I want us to be, but I don't want to admit yet because when I start to make things good in my way, shit gets real.

She firmly holds my hand, and like that, she's got me wrapped around her finger – again.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Hi, sorry for this very late update. Been not too motivated lately.

A new reader review! Wow!  
Hello, Guest! Thank you so much. It surprises me that this story still gets new readers. That's good to here, I've always want to explore the dynamics of these two as their potential in the canon, even as individual characters, had made me disappointed. Anyways, thank you another 'now' Acnorene shipper. I also want to explore Irene and Erza, mother-daughter relationship, which the canon trampled down as well. Enjoy reading!

Thank you for the reviews, my beloved constant reviewers! Legit. they made my week. :)  
Hope y'all keep them coming (for motivation and fast updates). ;)  
What do you think of this chapter?  
Love to hear from y'all


	19. Halloween Cuddles

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

19

Irene

I'm almost positive these two have picked the three biggest pumpkins they could find to bring home and carve. "Are we even sure these will fit in the car?" I joke as we make our way to where I've parked.

For a few minutes I can almost believe we're a real family. I'm pulling a wagon, and Erza's perched in Acno's arms, jabbering away about carving these pumpkins. On my way over to meet them, I stopped at the grocery and picked up stuff to make us dinner, and Acno's mentioned s'mores again. Maybe one day, this really can be my family.

I stop at my trunk, opening it, while Acno walks Erza over to the backseat.

"I'll get those," he yells, so I can hear him, as he buckles her in.

Another thing I'm not used to, someone helping me with all the heavy lifting. It's a lot harder for me to get used to than I ever thought it would be. I fought hard for my independence, and it's hard letting someone help me. Which, I'm aware, is completely insane.

Acno finishes up with Erza and closes the door, coming around the car.

"Hey," he says with a smile. His voice is a caress, low enough so only I can hear him, the tone making my heart race. His smile meant for me alone.

We haven't had a chance to talk today without Erza being around. "Hey," I smile back at him, hoping it's flirtatious. I'm totally out of practice.

When he takes his aviators off, I almost melt, because the green eyes he hides are as gorgeous as he is. "You were gone this morning when I woke up. I didn't scare you, did I?"

"No," I shake my head, that's the last thing he did. "I just didn't want Erza to have to stay with Anna any longer than she had to. I don't leave her often, and it felt a little – I don't know – indulgent, to laze in bed with you when my daughter was with the neighbor. Ya know? It wasn't anything about you, it was about me. I'm going to have to get used to letting the mom part of me go for longer than a few hours at a time. You got my note, right?"

"I did, I just wanted to make sure I didn't overstep, and I totally get why you left. Believe me, I always want you to be a mom to her. More than anything, I want you to be a good mom to her.

"The best mom," I correct.

He chuckles. "The best mom, and I don't ever want to make you feel uncomfortable, so if you do, please let me know."

"If I felt uncomfortable, I wouldn't have let her be with you today, I wouldn't have gone and bought food so we can eat dinner together later. Seriously, Acno…if I was given an option, I'd be even more comfortable with you than I already have been."

He steps back, cupping my hip in his hand, giving it a squeeze. This seems to be his move, he does it a lot. "Good," he grins, bending down to put the pumpkins in my trunk.

I admire the way his muscles move under the long-sleeve shirt he's wearing today, along with a beanie covering his hair. Now that I know what's under the shirt though, I wish it was hot enough for him to be shirtless. When he's done, he brushes his hands off before turning to face me.

"I'll see you at my apartment?"

"Yup, we have no other stops to make, so we'll either follow you over, or the other way around."

"You lead, I'll follow."

I've noticed this about him, he's a gentleman in like every sense of the word. Erza and I always enter a door before him. Apparently we ride in the car in front of him, as well.

"See you over there then."

We both linger over the trunk, hood still open, so we're blocked off from everyone milling around. We're dancing around each other, and I know we are, but I can't bring myself to make the first move. I made the first move last night.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly when I've given up he's going to make any kind of move.

"You don't have to ask," I bite my lip, voice deep, because I want it. "Just go for it."

"That's what you did, right?" he teases as his palm cups my neck, tilting my head up as he brings his down.

"Right," I breathe, just before his lips capture mine. As far as kisses go, this one is chaste, but he sneaks in a slip of his tongue. Just that little bit causes me to grip his waist, holding on for dear life. As we break apart, his forehead touches mine as I lick my lips, loving the taste that's specifically Acnologia.

"I'll see you there," he drops a ghost of a kiss on my forehead, before he puts the sunglasses back on, and makes his way over to his bike.

Turning to my trunk, I close it, and try to compose myself. Nobody has ever been able to affect me with one touch, and maybe that's what scares me more than anything.

"Did you have fun with Acno?" I question Erza as I get in the car and leave from the pumpkin patch.

"Yeah, Acky's fun," she's coloring in the book Acno gave her on their second meeting. "People look at him."

I've noticed it too, but it's because he walks around every place we go like he owns it. "I know, honey, he has that type of personality."

"It's weird," she keeps talking. "No one walks close to us."

She's right about that; no one walks close to him, and it's because of the attitude he throws out. How do I explain this to a six-year-old? Granted she's much older than her years, but this is too deep. "Maybe he stinks," I wrinkle my nose at her in the rearview mirror.

"Mom! He doesn't stink!"

Erza chuckles as she seems to be offended for him, but it's enough to get her mind off of what she's already noticed. "You don't think so?"

"No," she giggles. "He smells good."

That he does. I lick my lips, he tastes good, too. I don't even know how to describe the taste, but it's definitely lickable.

"You okay spending time at his apartment tonight?" I ask, getting further away from why people give the man a wide berth.

"As long as I can play with Tux."

"Did Acno agree you could rename him?"

She looks up from her book, smiles at me, and I swear to God she looks like a teenager for a split second. "Nope, but he will."

"If he says no, we have to go by what he asks. You understand that right?"

"I know, but he's not going to stay no, Mom. Even he knows his name for his cat sucks."

I can't help it, I laugh, and I hope to God Acno realizes what he's getting into with a single mom and an opinionated little girl. As I'm trying to hold back another laugh, I do the responsible, parent thing. "You shouldn't say sucks, sweetie. It's not a nice word."

Under my breath though? I add an I agree.

* * *

Acnologia

"I have a little bit of work I need to finish. It shouldn't take me any longer than you cooking," I tell Irene when we get back to the apartment. "The guy is picking his bike up tomorrow," the tone of my voice is apologetic, and I hate I have to do this to her, but spending all the time with her yesterday cut into my work day.

"That's cool," she doesn't even seem pissed. "This'll take about an hour from start to finish. We can eat, carve pumpkins, and then head on home."

"Or you can stay and watch a movie," I blurt out before I can stop myself. I want to convince her to stay. Having her here last night was the highlight of my week. Hell, the highlight of my month, maybe even my year.

"Sounds good to me," she looks over at Erza. "What do you say?"

"As long as I get to play with Tux, I don't care."

We both laugh. Decisions are so easy when you're six years old. "Then I guess we're staying," she answers, washing her hands in the sink.

"Alright, I'm gonna go get what I need to get done, done. I'll be back up in about an hour. If it's done before then, just text me."

"Acky!" I hear Erza yell out, holding Tux in her arms.

"Erza!" I answer.

"Can me and Tux go with you?"

This kid still wants to spend time with me? I'm not sure what I've done to deserve it, but I'm so fucking thankful. I never realized how lonely I was until she showed up. "If it's okay with your mom."

I glance over at Irene and see she's holding back tears; I can tell because her eyes are bright. They're pooling, and she's refusing to let those tears fall. "It's okay with me as long as you change. We brought your stuff, remember?" She points to a bag sitting on the couch.

She grabs the bag and runs to the bathroom.

"Make sure she doesn't get too dirty," Irene warns me. "I didn't bring more than two pairs of clothes to change into, and I get the feeling you're angling for us to stay all night."

"I'm not saying a word that could incriminate me, I learned that already."

She laughs, throwing her head back and giving into it. I hardly ever see her unguarded like this and I have to join her. The laugh is infectious. "Just be careful and watch her."

Erza comes out of the bathroom, wearing what are undoubtedly play clothes. "I'll guard her with my life."

"C'mon Tux," she yells to the cat.

"Alfred," I correct her, winking at Irene as we leave the apartment and head downstairs.

"What do you have to do?" Erza asks as we enter the garage.

It's cold in here, especially since the weather's changed. "You okay?" I go over and turn on the two heaters I use to warm the space.

"It's cold," she jumps up and down.

"Let me get you a jacket."

Mine will be a blanket on her, but it'll be better than her catching a cold. I go into my office, still amazed I can see a portion of the desk. Grabbing the jacket, I come back out and put it over Erza's shoulders.

"Give it a few, it'll warm up in here."

She follows me, as I go about grabbing all the stuff I need to complete the job I have left to do. When I'm ready, I turn to face her. "You wanna help?"

"I can help?" Her voice is full of wonder and determination that I'd be willing to let her do something like that. It hits me that she probably doesn't get to help Irene that often. Hell, what Irene does is so precise that if Erza did help, there'd be no way to fix it.

"Sure, Sprite. C'mon, let's get this done."

It's easy to do things with her because she's such a voracious learner. "Turn it to the left," I let her think she's turning the wrench, but I put quite a bit of elbow grease into it myself.

"I did it," she's smiling up at me, and I know right then I'll do anything to see that smile again. It doesn't matter that this kid isn't mine, she's taken a part of my heart. One I'm not going to be able to get back easily. Nor do I think I want to.

"You did, Sprite, you sure did."

* * *

Irene

The door to the apartment opens and in spills Acno, the cat, and Erza.

"Damn, it smells good in here," Acno moans as he herds Erza towards the bathroom. ""What do we have here?"

"Hmm, strawbery cheesecake – Erza's favorite, your s'mores, chocolate shake, –"

He cuts me off while he huddles at my back. "Hmm, we've got diabetes."

I nudged him. Dare he say. "Okay, s'mores boy." I sarcastically emphasize the s'mores. We're all sweet tooth here.

He chuckles. "Is it almost done?"

"Just have to get the tortillas out of the oven, then it'll be ready. Y'all have perfect timing."

"We need to wash our hands, and then we'll be ready to eat, right Erza?"

"I've got a man-size hunger," she tells me, rubbing her stomach.

"You worked hard, baby girl?" I hear the timer go off, signaling my tortillas are done. Erza sheepishly smiles, "I helped fix the bike, Mom. Look!" She proudly points the grease on her left elbow.

"Oh, my baby's a little mechanic now, huh?" I proudly smile at her, though I know it was all Acno's doing. I am so overwhelmed that he trusts Erza in small tasks, and appreciating even her small accomplishments.

"She earned her keep today," Acno grins.

My mom side surfaces, and I automatically checks Erza's clothes to see if there's any dirt. None, good, check. My eyes moves on her hands covered with a little grease, and Acno seems to get the message across, and I notice his slight panic.

"But right now I feel like I could eat all those tacos on my own. Let's go get cleaned up, Sprite." He says in in-between "I am in trouble" chuckles.

The way she follows him, doesn't question what he says to her, and the way she looks up to him fills me with pride. She's such a good kid, and all she's ever wanted is someone to love her. That's all either of us have ever wanted. I dread what's going to happen when we run out of hours, and we don't have Acno anymore.

Unexpected emotion clogs my throat, and I tell myself to dry it the fuck up. Crying's never helped with anything, and there's no reason for me to be crying over something that hasn't happened yet.

They're making a conversation in the bathroom, and I smile as I hear Erza.

"I can't reach it."

"Can you reach it now?"

He's probably lifted her up, doing the things her dad should be doing with her.

"Do you like tacos, Acky?" she says as she runs to the kitchen and sits in the seat she claims as her own.

"I love tacos," he appears in the kitchen, rubbing his stomach. "I can probably eat every bit of what your mom's made for all of us."

"Today must be a special day," she observes, watching as the two of us have a seat.

"Why do you say that?" Maybe she thinks because she went to the pumpkin patch and now we're having dinner with Acno that it's a special occasion.

"It's not Tuesday, and usually tacos are on Tuesday."

God, I love my daughter so much, I just can't predict her at times. Her logic is not flawed and I laugh so hard I snort.

"You're cute," Acno laughs too as he looks at me.

"That was not cute at all. If you still like me after I snort at you, then you're deluded," I finish chuckling as I help Erza get her food on her plate.

He's watching me with those serious eyes again. The ones that make me want to give anything he asks for. "Everything about you is cute, get used to it, babe."

My mouth goes dry. He used an endearment. For me. I haven't been called anything other than Irene or Mom in a very long time. It's odd hearing it come from anyone, but coming from him? It makes my heart speed up. I'm embarrassed and don't know how to respond. Instead I close my mouth, quirk it to the side, and say the first thing that comes to mind. "Can you pass the lettuce?"

"Learn to take a compliment," he hands me the plate of lettuce I just asked for.

"I'll do my best," and that's all I can promise because I haven't had them for so long.

"I'll keep giving them to you, until you're used to it."

Somehow I don't think I'll ever be used to it.

* * *

We're camped out in the living room watching Hotel Transylvania, all full, and worn out from dinner and carving pumpkins. Those pumpkins now sit proudly on Acno's stairs, and I've had to promise Erza we'll come back and look at them every couple of days until Halloween. We didn't make it outside to do campfire, and perhaps, s'mores again, we're all wiped.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Acno's voice is deep, lazy, and amazingly sexy.

He and I are on the couch, and somehow I'm lying against his chest, our legs entwined as we share a blanket. It's not how we started, but it's how we've ended up. Erza is sitting in the only other chair in the living area, Tux on her lap engrossed in the movie.

"These flowers," I pull up the website I've been perusing. "I love them, and I'm waiting for some to go on sale."

"What's so special about them?" He asks as he glances at the pictures on my phone. "Other than the fact they are damn expensive."

I roll my eyes and flash him a look over my shoulder. "They aren't normal flowers obviously. They never die. They're made out of cloth and recycled materials. I try to buy them wholesale and use them when I can in designs. Plus, I kind of like the bouquets. Something about them never wilting up and dying appeals to me. It's like a memory that can live forever, every time you look at them. They aren't pressed in some memory book; they can be on display all the time."

"That's cool," he takes my phone from my hands, scrolling through the ones I've marked.

"It's stupid, I know," I give him a shrug. "But it's the memory attached to it that appeals to me more than anything. I have some a friend got me when the divorce was final. It was the first time I'd ever seen anything like them, but since then they've been a memory for me to look back on. I'm not saying it's a great memory, but it's a life-changing one. I want to remind myself never to go back where I was."

"Less permanent than a tattoo huh?"

"Dear Jesus, like it would matter to you."

He grabs my hand where I'm poking him in the chest. "All my tattoos matter to me. Every single one of them tells a story, they all make up who I am," he explains. "There's not one that doesn't have a memory to go along with it. I sure as fuck don't go to a tattoo artist with some trendy ass Chinese lettering that I don't even understand."

He seems offended by the notion, almost as if it's personal. "Someone you know has done that?"

"You could say that. Some dumbass kid I've known, who doesn't know what the world is yet, and now he's got some symbols on his arm that probably mean eat shit and die."

I can't help it, I laugh. He's so thoroughly disgusted.

"Sure laugh now, but if we don't teach this one respect when it comes to tattoos, she's gonna come home at eighteen with a tramp stamp in the middle of her back," he points to Erza. "The only thing a tramp stamp is good for is a focal point when a dude does a woman from behind. I mean, we've gotta teach them young."

"I don't know whether to be offended that you just talked about my six-year-old and a guy doing a woman from behind in the same sentence, or if I'm amazed because you're making plans to have us in your life that long."

The words are out before I can stop them, before I can tell myself to wait five minutes and give him a chance to take them back. Now I've probably backed him into a corner he never wanted to be in.

He runs a hand over the beard he's sporting, rubbing his mouth. "I don't want there to be a timetable on what's going on here. I do realize I have certain hours I owe, but after those hours are done, I still wanna see you and Sprite. I kinda like having you both around."

"We like being around."

"I don't wanna scare you. I don't want you to think I want promises you can't make and time you can't give, but I want you to know that for as long as you wanna be here, I want you here."

I'm shocked, beyond shocked. It seems like this is happening so fast, but at the same time, I feel as if I've known him forever. I trust him with my daughter. I trust three total people with her, and he's one of them, I realize. Why not let nature take its course? Why not, for once in my life, do what I want to?

"We wanna be here, too. I don't know if you realize this or not, but she likes you a lot, and so do I." No point in laying this all on Erza's shoulders. I'm just as invested as she is.

"Then we let whatever this is between us play out? No time constraints, nobody forcing us into doing something we don't want to do?"

"Sounds good to me," the smile I give him is the most genuine I think I've ever given anyone in my life.

"Kiss her!" Erza encourages from where she sits.

"That okay with you, Sprite, if I do?" He asks, because he's always respectful of her.

"Yeah," she puts her hands over her eyes, and we giggle as he bends his head down, kissing me quickly on the lips.

When we broke the kiss, I whispered, "Mind you, Mister, I have a "tramp stamp" in the middle of my back." I rolled my eyes, it wasn't a tramp stamp of course, it has deeper meaning to it. I had it when I left from the orphanage - a tiara - a Queen - that's what I've wanted to be. And right now, this man is treating me as such.

"Hmm, and I am not taking back what I said, it's a good view when I will do it from behind." He plants a soft kiss in my shoulder, and whispers seductively while caressing my hands.

I'm pretty sure I've turned red as a strawberry. I panic, damn him and his dirty mouth, we have a child in the house.

Thank God, Erza's so engrossed in the movie, I hope she's just watching it at face value, and won't get any deep ideas from it, she might ask questions why the daddy vampire is so protective with the baby vampire, because her dad wasn't caring to her at all. I should have checked that this was the plot of the movie. I stare at Acno, and wonder if he'll turn that protective to Erza when she'll come of age, and have suitors lining up for her. Wow, my subconscious thinks this would go as far as that.

He smiled seductively, and started touching me in inappropriate places under the blanket.

"Kya!"I yelped, I almost forgot I got to reprimand him of his dirty mouth, and now his inappropriate hands.

"You okay, Mommy?" Erza turns her head to us.

"Yes, sweetie. Just found some new designs I could use for the store." I smile back at her, and her attention is back to the movie.

"Behave." I eye Acno narrowly, but I can't hide the smirk I mimic from him.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

I reached over 4k in this chapter. I couldn't slice them up. Yea, seriously, I think I regret it's this long.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, IRENE BELSERION! I know you weren't given a chance to be the best you've hoped to be, but giving up Erza for her best chance is enough to say you did the right thing, of how selfless you are. What more if circumstances have been fair to you, then bestest would be an understatement.

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	20. It's About the Damn Time

I do not own anything, okay? Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

20

Acnologia

I hadn't meant to spring this on Irene, hadn't even planned on talking to her about any of it tonight, but it felt right. I'm beginning to trust my instincts when it comes to her. So far, they've not steered me wrong.

"She's out," Irene whispers as she looks at Erza.

The cat and girl are curled up in the chair. "Don't wake her up. You're both welcome to stay here," I whisper back. "The couch folds out. I'll sleep out here, and you two can take my bed. It's not a problem."

I walk down the hallway, grabbing the extra set of sheets and the pillows I keep there. It's not often people stay with me. Every once in a while, I have a buddy who comes through town on a bike and will crash with me if it rains, or it gets cold, or they need to have some work done. It's probably been at least six months since anyone's slept on it, and I know tomorrow my back is going to kill, but to have these ladies with me for a little longer is worth it all.

Irene helps me fold the bed out, and we work quietly, doing our best not to wake Erza up.

"What if I told you this was a problem?" Irene whispers as we finish making the bed, and I pick Erza up to take her back to my room.

"Do you not want to stay?" I thought we'd already decided that was a great idea, but maybe I read things wrong?

"No, we wanna stay, I wanna stay" she licks her lips. "But I wanna stay with you."

I inhale deeply, trying to calm my already rising dick as I realize what she's saying. The breath is loud in the stillness. "What do you want to do?" This has got to be completely her call. I won't pressure her either way.

"Erza will be fine out here with Tux. I wanna be in your room with you."

"There's no other place I want you to be," I whisper, putting Erza down onto the fold-out.

We work quickly, tucking Erza in and putting Tux in with her. "Keep her safe, you hear?" I point to the cat, and I think he understands what I'm saying, because he curls up next to her.

I check the doors, making sure everything's locked down, and engage the security system linked to the shop before I turn to face Irene. She's showering Erza with light kisses, and brushes her nose with her daughters', is that their comfort blanket? I warmly smile as I walk over to them.

"Last chance, you can stay out here with her and I won't care either way." I whisper.

She grips me around the waist, burying her face in my neck, marking me with a strong kiss. "As much as I love to be with my daughter, I wanna be with you tonight."

Then be with me she will.

* * *

Irene

"We can shut the door, but let's not lock it, in case she needs something," I nervously tell him as I run my hand through my hair.

"Irene," he tugs on my arms, pulling me over to the bed. He has a seat so he's eye-level with me, and forces me to look at him. "I have no expectations for whatever this," he motions between the two of us, "is."

"I don't either," I have to be honest. "But God, when I left this morning, I admitted to myself, I wanted to know what it would have been like to be with you, and when I picked up food to make for dinner, I got condoms."

My face is burning, I mean positively on fire as I tilt my head to where they are on the bedside table. I don't think I've ever wanted anything more than I do at this moment. I want him to take charge and make me stop being a fumbling idiot. "But if this isn't what you want…" I let my voice trail off, giving him an out. "I can go sleep on the couch with Erza and we can head home in the morning."

"Shit no," his voice is strong as he grips my arms. "Fuck that. You just stood here and told me you bought condoms. The implication of what that means already has me hard."

I smile because it makes me proud I can make him have that reaction. "We're both on the same page then?"

"Honey, I'm wherever you want to be. You just tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen."

The heady sense of arousal he gives me is crazy. I shouldn't be this turned on for him, not when he brought me to an amazing orgasm last night, but I am. It's like he unlocked the gate I'd been hiding behind when it came to my sexual awakening since the divorce. All I've thought about the entire day is getting him alone so I can see his tattoos again. I take my hands and push against his pectoral muscles, shoving him back against the bed.

"So it's gonna be like that?" he teases, landing on his elbows, as he falls gracefully.

"Maybe for a little while."

I reach down, grasping the edge of my t-shirt between my fingers before lifting it over my head, and throwing it to the ground. Then I move my hands to the button of my jeans, unhooking it before I push them down my thighs, and kick them to the side. I'm more thankful than I care to admit that no matter if I've had a man in my life or not, I'm obsessed with matching bras and panties. Them being sexy is a pre-requisite.

"Do you like?" I ask, noticing the once-over he gives me. Maybe last night we were both too eager to appreciate what we had in front of us. I am so bare with him, and I became conscious with my scar across my belly. "Maybe we could use dim lights." I almost get up when he speak.

"No dim lights. I wanna see it all, I like it very much," he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, before using his left hand to cup his hard-on. "You're a beautiful woman, Irene. I don't want you to be conscious of this battle scar. It's a reminder of how strong you are to bring Erza to the world." I warmly smile at him, what did I do to deserve this man, I must have enchanted him. He comes closer, his green eyes turn a bit darker, as he caresses my lingerie.

"I do have to say in my dream of us together, you didn't have matching underwear. It's a turn-on that you do tonight."

"It's my thing, I always wear them," I blush, seductively smiling. My eyes roam back to him. "You're a fucking hot man, Acno," I pay him back the compliment. Never in my life did I ever think I'd be standing almost naked in front of a man like him. It just wasn't in the cards for me.

Stepping forward, I let my fingers linger on the button at his waist, before I drop my palm down, covering his with mine. His cock is hard under the denim. I did that, I realize. There's no one else in the room, only the two of us. Looking at my body did this to him.

"Put me out of my misery," he begs, his voice gravelly as he glances down where our hands are entwined.

I give him a squeeze before I release him and move my hand back up to his button, and unhook it, shoving my hands up his shirt. "Lift up," and that's when I realize how strong he is, he sits up, his body tightening, grasping me around the back of the neck, pulling me to him. I move my hands up his body, taking the soft material along with me. As soon as the shirt is off his chest, his mouth is on mine, his fingers digging into the flesh of my neck. I fight with the waistband of his jeans, trying to pull them off his hips. With difficulty he stands, which allows me to pull them down, to get them completely off his body, leaving him in only a pair of snug, gray boxer briefs. They do nothing but outline the hard line of his cock, and I feel like I've been punched in the stomach as I look down at it in all its glory.

"The dragon's not gonna bite," Acno has a smartass grin on his face.

Leaning in, I put my hands through his hair, tugging the ends and tilting his head back on his neck to expose the long column of strength to my mouth. One thing I hadn't been able to do last night was explore his body the way I'd wanted. His hands grip my hips, but they don't try to dissuade me from my goal. Using my knee, I balance myself on the bed, and tilt forward, letting my lips run against the pulse point on the side of his neck. I kiss, nibble, bite, and take everything I've wanted to take for so long. One of his hands slides up my stomach, and over the mound of my breast, cupping the weight in his palm, squeezing as I nip harder, sucking stronger. I want to mark him, I want other women, if they're looking, to know this man is taken. He's got two people who care about him, two people who want him in their lives. There's nothing I would ruin this situation for, nothing I would want to do to ruin these moments he's given me. These are moments I'd always assumed I'd never have.

Moving down his chest, I let my tongue paint a path to his nipple, sucking one in between my teeth and biting down.

"Shit, Irene," his palm moves over the lace and sneaks in past the fabric, his bare skin against mine. Fucking finally.

My nipple peaks as he rubs his calloused palm over it, the rough texture a contrast to the silky smoothness of my skin. His other hand hooks around my thigh, pulling me so that I'm straddling his waist. Our bodies are touching, every single inch of them, as I feel his cock jump against the heat of my core. My panties go wet. God, he's so strong, smells so good, great with my daughter, and apparently knows the ins and outs of my body after one night, that I want to weep. My patience in waiting for a man must be counting for something.

When our mouths meet again, tongues tangling, he grips my thighs and flips us over so he's on top of me. The heavy weight of him is as much of a turn on as the skill of his tongue and the soft feel of his lips against my flesh. With one hand, he takes both my wrists and pushes them above my head, causing my tits to thrust out. They're swollen, still covered by the lace, and holy shit do I need him to get me naked before I combust.

"I let you go as long as I could," he speaks as he trails his own kisses down my throat, and my chest. "But I need to be in you, I need to get this time out of the way." His voice is deep, breathy, and dark as he moves down my body, placing a kiss on the flesh pouring out of my bra.

Using his free hand, he pulls the cup down, exposing me to the coolness of the room. Underneath the heat of his gaze, my nipple tightens, and I feel an answering tightening where his cock is nestled in between my legs. I push up, needing the contact. I'm dying for the pressure of him pressing into me, of my body contracting around his length, feeling him throb inside of me as he comes.

"Please, Acno," I pant, straining against his hand, trying to press my body closer to his. "Don't make me wait. I need this time as much as you do."

He growls and attacks my nipple with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. The hand he used to pull the fabric of my bra down with is now moving along my side, past my hip and his fingers are catching the silky material of my panties. He bites down on my sensitive flesh and I shiver, pushing deeper into his mouth, moaning when he uses his tongue to soothe the heat.

"Fuck, Acno," I grasp his hand with my fingers, pressing against him, needing to feel that connection as I thrust towards his heat. "This feels so good," I tilt my head back, arching my shoulders and giving him every inch of my skin, letting him mark me, letting him own me.

Suddenly he lets go of my hands, stands up, and drags my panties the rest of the way down my legs. "Take that fucking bra off, I want you completely naked," he commands, stalking over to the bag I sat in his bedroom earlier. As he fishes through it, he pushes his own boxer briefs off his hips, and I'm rewarded with how much I've turned him on. He's bigger than my ex-husband. Funny how I didn't notice how much last night. This could be uncomfortable, but I'm willing to give it everything I've got.

I struggle to take the bra off, and I'm ready to rip the fucker when the hook gives in and let's go. Throwing it on the ground, I give him my full attention again. He's walking towards me, his hand on his cock, lazily stroking it up and down. The condom package in his hand is like a beacon of light. I can't look away from what he's doing, the promise of what's going to happen to me.

Acno comes to a stop in front of me, ripping the wrapper with his teeth. "Are you sure about this? Once I get this fucking rubber on, it's over, I won't be able to stop," he warns.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

That could be the lust talking, but I don't care. Right now, I want this more than I've ever wanted anything. I watch through slitted eyes as he rolls the rubber on and then comes down onto the bed, catching himself on his arms.

Going to his elbow, he dips his head, taking my nipple back into his mouth, as he moves his free hand down to my pussy. "Holy shit," I moan when I feel two fingers make their way inside my heat. "Feels so good," I push my hips against the invasion, taking him inside, grasping his hair in my fingers and yanking him closer to my tits as he begins working my clit.

* * *

Acnologia

Goddamn, Irene's hot and wet, and so fucking ready for me, I think I could get her off by just letting her thrust against my fingers. Letting her though, would be so empty. Removing my fingers, I use the wetness to coat my cock, before bracing myself against the mattress and taking her in one thrust.

"Acno," she moans loudly, grabbing on to my shoulders, her nails biting into the straining muscles.

"Son of a bitch, Irene."

She's everything I expected her to be. Tight. Warm. Fucking Heaven. Her hands move down my back, fingernails denting my ass as she wraps her legs around my waist, holding on tight. I've got to move, I've got to feel the way she releases me and pulls me back in. Gritting my teeth, I make the withdrawal, closing my eyes and dropping my head to her collarbone, panting against the heated flesh.

"Feels so good, Acno," she pants along with me, thrusting up against me as I push back in.

Words aren't needed as we start the push and pull, the thrust and withdrawal. Sweat pours down my neck, coating my chest as I work against her. I put one foot on the floor, hooking my arms around her thighs to bring her closer to me. With one foot on solid ground, I can thrust deeper, grind harder against her. "There it is," I release her thighs, bringing my hands up around her face, grasping the comforter between my fingers. It gives me a little more leverage and lets me get the deepest I've been.

"So deep," she moans in my ear, turning her face in my neck, nipping at my earlobe. "It's like you're hitting the deepest part of me," she admits, laying her head back against the covers.

Her hair is damp, sticking to her neck, and her eyes are closed, her mouth is open as she pants, and her cheeks are flushed with passion. I put that look there, I worked that sweat out of her body, and I made her not care about the hair plastered against her skin. It makes me pick up my pace, grinding against her as I bottom out and then pull back. My hands grip the comforter so tight my knuckles go white, and I'm using my grip to almost do a pull up into her body. I'm close, too close to stop now.

"Touch yourself," I grit out between clenched teeth. "I wanna feel you coming around my cock, as I let go."

She's obedient and does exactly what I've asked her to do. As I feel her body tightening against mine, I let go of the firm grip I've had on my pleasure, taking control of her mouth as we both moan loudly. Neither one of us need to wake up the little girl sleeping in the other room. A part of my soul leaves my body and enters hers as I empty myself into her. Never in my life has the sexual release I've gotten through the coming together of two bodies felt like this. It's damn scary, but at the same time I can't wait to do it again.

In the aftermath, my hips are still pressing slightly into hers, enjoying the aftershocks racking her body against mine. Our breathing is returning to normal, and I'm fighting against sleep. More than anything, we both need a fucking shower.

"Acno," she whispers.

"Don't," I kiss her quickly. "Let's enjoy what went on here tonight. Let's not look too deeply into it, and let's not put a label on anything. It's whatever we want it to be."

Her eyes show a flash of relief as I grab her by the wrists and pull her off the bed. I'm ready for two things. A shower and sleep, and more than anything, I'm ready to wake up in the morning with someone next to me.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Sorry for the late update. Just got too busy with work, and had no motivation to update.

Anyways thank you everyone who still follows this story. Very much appreciated.

Fairytail is soon ending, and it breaks my heart, but after the messed up happenings in the canon, it's about the damn time (as well as the the most awaited lemon in this story) *wink

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	21. Thursday is my Favorite Day of the Week

I do not own anything. Credits to Laramie Briscoe and Hiro Mashima.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

21

Acnologia

Inhaling deeply on the cigarette clenched between my lips, I sigh as I let the nicotine wash over me. I'm doing my best not to be high strung, to have this conversation as level-headed as possible, but there's no denying I'm pissed. Squinting against the bright sun, I keep my gaze trained on the exit of the neighborhood gym. A part of me had wanted to go inside and confront him, but I'm old enough to know he may have friends inside that I don't want to tangle with.

Leaning against the brick, my feet crossed, I keep watch. Thirty minutes after I take up my stake out, I see Z walking outside, head bent down as he texts something on his cell phone. Walking across the street, I'm beside him before he notices me. Putting my arm around his shoulders, I lean in. "You and I are gonna have a little talk. The diner up there okay with you?" I point my phone to an all-night diner a half a block up.

He cuts his eyes at me, I can tell he's trying to figure out what my play is here. "Your choice, but we're having a talk today. Right now."

"Good, asshole, I'd like to talk to you about my motherfuckin' starter."

I grip my arm around his neck tighter. "We'll talk about that too."

We walk the rest of the way in silence. When we get to the diner, I motion him to a table further in the back. I don't want us interrupted and I want him to hear me loud and clear. Neither one of us say a word as we settle in and the lone waitress takes our drink order.

"What's this about?" he tilts his head to the side, giving me a blank stare.

I'm not stupid, and I know he's smarter than he acts. He knows exactly what this is about. "First of all," I tell him, taking a drink of the coffee the waitress sat before me. "You'll get your starter when you pay me the money you owe me. I don't care if you have to do it in payments."

"Man," he blows out a deep breath and moves so I can feel his feet under the table. Z's not a small guy, but not big either, but by any means, as he gets older, he'll fill out, and probably be the type of person people don't want to mess with. My goal is to make sure he's got a good head on his shoulders, and doesn't end up where I did. "From what my mom hints at, you owe us."

At first I don't understand what he's saying, then I remember Irene telling me that Z hinted I've got many girlfriends and secret babies, well fuck this misunderstanding with no logical basis, "Zeref," I use his given name for only about the second time since I've known him. His dark eyes flash as I do it, and he shifts in his seat.

"You think, I don't know about the money you've been sending her? I saw it in my own damn eyes."

I raised my brow, still confused on what he is pointing out. "Your mom and I are friends, and yes, I've been lending her money for your brother's medications, because I want to help."

"Don't fuck with me, for a man like you, with no exchange?" Z replied with narrowed eyes. "I saw her forcing back her cries when she went out of your house the last time. You screwed her, didn't you?" Ah, so that's what this is about, and his illogical hatred coming from.

"He couldn't support my brother because she doesn't have a stable job, so the lady becomes your whore." He stated with a blank face.

"Dammit, that's your mom you're talking about. Learn some respect," I kick hard him under the table.

I'm going out on a limb here, because I think this is what the kid wants, and if I can provide some help, then I will. "Listen you shithead. f you want the truth, I didn't fuck your mom, she's one of my few trusted friends that I could only count in one hand. I don't need you to believe me, but honestly, she couldn't afford paying the medical bills, even after having a decent job in the bookstore. She's underpaid, and I am just helping out. If it gives you some consolation, she asked me to stop sending her money, you know why? She swallowed her pride, and sent your brother to your Uncle Igneel in Fiore. There's no more use of my help. Your Uncle takes care of your brother now. You don't know about that, do you? Well, go home, and find out, shithead."

For one of the first times since I've met him, he sits up straight, and keeps his mouth shut. He gets mellow with his brother. Now that he knows his brother is well taken care of, I hope I could get through to him.

"You know why she was crying the day she went out of my house? She does not know what to do with you! Since you lost your father, she had lost a partner, and a father figure to you and Natsu. And as the older brother, what did you do to your responsibilities? Threw it away! Look at you now, living in the streets. She asked me to be your father figure, because I've been in the same place like you, but I refused, because I know I can't babysit you! She cried the entire time. I can't be the father figure that your mom is looking for, but I can be your friend, Z. The people you're hanging out with," I take another sip of my coffee. "Are going one place, boy, and that's jail. I've been there, done that, and I never wanna go back again."

"Like you could help me," he gives me a smart ass grin and scoffs at the idea.

"I could if you'd let me. I don't have a lot of hours right now, but give me a few months to a year, my shop will need the help."

"Sure," he takes a drink off of his Coke, tossing the paper to the straw down. "One more empty offer to go along with all the others who've refused after everything I've done for them."

I grab the paper, hooking my hand over his. I grasp his fingers in a strong grip, forcing his eyes to meet mine. "I'm not bullshitting you, but I'm not going to baby you either. I'm going to say this shit one time. Find my money, I'll give you back the fuckin' starter. If you're interested in a job, come see me in a few months. If you want none of that, that's fine too. Don't come to my shop, don't threaten me again, and you sure as fuck better never talk to Irene again."

He looks like he wants to say something else, but stops.

"Are we clear?" I use a firm tone with him, not mean, but firm to let him know I'm serious.

"Crystal," he glances up at me. "Can I go now?"

"You're totally free to leave whenever you want. Just remember what I said."

He gets up, walks out, and never looks back. I notice though, that his walk isn't so much a strut, and the set of his shoulders isn't so squared. Maybe, just maybe I got through a little bit. Hopefully one day, the kid will be a productive member of society.

Today, I don't have time to dwell. Today's Thursday, and I'm pretty fucking excited.

* * *

Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I check the time for the hundredth time since I got back to the my cell phone out of my pocket, I check the time for the hundredth time today. Thursday has never been a buzz day of the week for me, but this week, it means I get to see Irene. She's been busy, I've been busy, Sprite's even been busy, and since they spent the night over the weekend, I haven't seen them. I haven't even spent hours with Erza. I get to remedy that tomorrow, but today, today I get to see the lady I've been sharing naughty text messages with.

I've never been a texter, not really, but when it's the only way of communication for us, I'll let my fingers do the talking. Most of the time when she's home, Erza's around, and it's not like we can be having phone sex with a six-year-old in the room. Fifteen more minutes, and she should be here.

Glancing at the bike I'm working on, I admit I should have been done with it yesterday, but I've been distracted. There's never been a woman in my life I've had to see. I never thought that guy would be me, but Irene's working on changing all kinds of things I thought were fact. She and Erza are opening me up to a whole different world.

"Acno!"

Even her voice makes me hard. Getting up from where I'm sitting in the back of the shop, I see her. She's changed into comfortable clothes because she's working on my office today, but fuck if she's working on my office before I get a taste of those lips.

"Goddamn you're a sight for sore eyes," I rush over, wiping my hands on a rag I throw to the ground before I take her in my arms. Lifting her up, I grab her ass, wrapping her legs around my waist. Breathing in her scent, it gives me a sense of peace. I haven't felt this calm since she and Erza left my apartment on Saturday, and I've been an anxious mess the last few days.

"You are too," she seductively smiles, initiating our kiss as she twines her arms around my neck, inviting me into her heat.

Reluctantly, I put her down, not wanting to get too out-of-control here, where anyone can walk in off the street. "I've missed the hell outta you."

Resting her head on my chest, her arms are tight around my waist. "Same here, and Erza keeps asking me when you can go see her. I tell you, this week has been the worst. All I've wanted to do is go sit outside your apartment and wait for you to come home so I could cook you and Erza dinner and we could all hang out," she sexily laughs.

"Next time you want to, just do it. The scenario you've just describe would have made my week a million times better."

She pulls back, and I hold her hand until I have to let her go. Taking her jacket off, she lays it against the back of a chair I have out in the work area. "I've gotten a ton of orders because Halloween's this week, so I've been working almost twenty hours a day to fill them. I had to shut off my store to catch up," she grins at me proudly.

"Damn baby, that's amazing!"

"I know," she nods, excitement in her voice and her eyes. "I need to start on Thanksgiving stuff next week, but this has allowed me to go ahead and pay for Erza's aikido lessons through the year. Do you know how awesome that is? To not have to worry about those lessons for the rest of the year?"

"It means a lot to you, so it means a lot to me," and I realize saying the words, it's true. Anything to take her mind off what she deals with on a day-to-day basis means more time for us and Erza.

"Thank you," she gives me another smile. "You don't know how much it means to me, to hear you say that. I feel like most of the time I'm spinning my wheels or beating my head against a wall, so when things come together, and a plan works out, it's almost orgasmic."

The word hits me right in the chest, because I wanna be the one to give her those feelings. "You sure about that?"

"Well," she cuts her eyes at me, licking her lips. "It used to be almost orgasmic, until I realized what a real orgasm felt like."

"Anytime you need one to be reminded, I'm your man."

"If I ever feel the need to be reminded, trust me," she walks back over to me, slipping her fingers in the waistband of my jeans. "You'll be the first person I call."

I have to put a stop to this because it's a work day, and I have shit to do. Leaning down, I palm her neck, pulling her in for a chaste kiss. "You're hell on my concentration; I have work to do, and so do you."

"Speaking of, you haven't added to the trash pile in there have you?"

"No," as she turns around, I smack my palm against her ass cheek. "Don't get mouthy."

She whips back around, surprise written all over her face. "If that's how you're gonna act, maybe I'll get mouthy more often."

I'm speechless as she saunters into the office.

* * *

Irene

I can't believe what I just said to him. Nobody has ever smacked my ass the way he did. It caused a reaction in me, one I hadn't been prepared for. Sure I've heard people at work, girlfriends I had, talk about their boyfriends doing it to them. I always smiled and nodded, but I never really got it. Not until his palm made contact with my jean-covered flesh. I'd let him take me over his knee any day of the fucking week if it gave me a jolt like that innocent touch had.

Shaking my head, I try to get myself out of the lust-induced fog this man puts me in every time I'm in his presence. Never before, not even with my ex, have I been so attuned to a man, so conscious of how he makes me feel. If it were anyone but Acno, I think it would be completely disconcerting. With him, I'm willing to give a piece of myself up, let him help me figure out who's hiding under everything she's tried to cover up for so long.

Paper after paper goes into the trash bag that I'm going to run by the shredder we use where I work. I don't even know why he's kept most of this stuff. My goal today is to get the desk completely clean. It's a great desk, but it does nothing for Acno, and it looks nothing like him either. I have a plan, but it'll only work if he agrees.

Putting my hair up in a ponytail, I turn my Spotify on, and listen to the angry rock I prefer not to listen to around Erza. If Acno wonders what I'm doing in here, he doesn't make it known, and knowing he trusts me with his personal information is another sign of how deeply the two of us are into one another – even if we can't really speak the words aloud yet.

An hour later, the desk is clean and polished. I'm re-thinking my idea, but the wood grain doesn't scream Acno to me. I'd love to do something drastic to it.

"Acno, can you come here for a sec?"

"Yeah, give me a minute."

His voice reverberates off the shop, and I love he hasn't left, he's stuck around while I've been working. It's nice to have someone around, even if you don't see them, just knowing they're there and you aren't alone.

"Holy shit," he whistles as he walks into what had once been the bane of his existence. "There's actually a desk under all that weight?"

"There is," I laugh. "And there's no more paperwork in it either, all that's filed by year, and vendor in that filing cabinet over there," I point to a black filing cabinet I'd found in a closet. A little paint, a little elbow grease, a nice cleaning, and it had fit perfectly in the corner. "But I have a question for you."

"Go for it."

"How attached are you to how that desk looks?"

His eyebrows come together in question as he gives me a glance. "What do you mean?"

"Stick with me for a second," I tell him, hoping to lay out my vision. "What I want to do is take the drawers off. Since we've moved all your filing to the cabinet, you don't need all this space. I want to pick it up, and turn it around, so that you're back isn't to the door. If someone comes in, and you sit behind this, I want them to see you as a businessman. The wood grain look is pretty nineteen eighties too, so what I'd like to do is strip this and paint it a nice matte black. That way it won't show up any of the grease that accumulates in here, and you can still be comfortable sitting at it. See the fingerprints at the edge?" I point out where it looks as if he's grasped it to either stand or sit at certain times. "You won't have to worry about that anymore."

"I see where you're going."

"And if it's turned around, we can put a shelving unit behind you, move the chairs in front of the desk, and if this place expands – which I think it will – you can watch over the bay at all times if we open the window up," I point to the nasty blinds that cover it now. "It'll also make the place feel bigger."

He leans against the door, relaxing his feet as his eyes roam over the space. I watch him cross his arms over his chest, rubbing his hand over his chin. "I'm all for it, I like the idea, and I think I'm gonna really enjoy the change of view. Do I need to help you with the desk?"

I look at my phone, seeing if I have enough time before I have to go get Erza from school. "No, I can get started on it today if you can help me move it out back. I'll have to stop in the middle and go get Erza, but we can come back here, if you want us to?"

"Do I want you to? Is that even a question you have to ask? We just sat here talking about how much we fucking miss each other."

The smile that spreads across my face is one of pure happiness.

"Why don't you pack bags for both of you? Halloween is tomorrow, and this is a great neighborhood to Acno or treat in. And then we have the weekend…" his voice trails off.

"You're asking us to stay here for a few days?" I can't believe he's asking us this; he's opening up his home to us. Erza had mentioned wanting to know if Acky would be willing to go trick or treating with her, and I hadn't even had to bring it up.

"The loneliness I didn't even know I felt before you two showed up is fucking suffocating me when you aren't here."

"I have some work I have to do," I warn him, not sure if he knows what he's getting into.

"Bring it with you. It can't be that hard to move, is it?"

It's kind of a pain in the ass, but I'll never tell him the truth. "I might have to take over your dining room table."

"We can eat on the couch with TV trays. The only thing that matters is I see you. This week has probably been the loneliest of my life." The confession sounds like it's being ripped from his throat.

"It's been pretty lonely for us, too," I admit. "And Erza's done nothing but talk about how she wants to see Tux."

"Alfred," he argues, a smile on his face.

"Acnologia Belserion, you might as well give it up, the cats name is Tux," I move to the end of the desk. If my daughter wants to call it Tux, then Tux it will be, not open for negotiations. "Now come on, I don't have much time before I have to go get Erza. If I can, I'm gonna do my best to get this stripped and sanded so I just have to paint it over the weekend."

"Erza and I will help you. It'll be a family project."

Be still my beating heart, with the words he just spoke, I've completely lost myself to this man. "Sounds good to me." I don't know if he can hear the emotion in my voice I try to mask, but something tells me he does.

Instead of crowding around me when we take the desk outside, he drops a kiss on my forehead and goes back in to do his own work. Left by myself, I let the tears come. I let them slowly make their way down my cheek, and I cautiously let some of the sobs out. No one's cared for me or my daughter the way this man does, and I'm scared to death that it's going to be taken away as quickly as it was given to us.

If he's pulled from our lives, it'll kill both me and Erza, and I'm not sure either one of us will ever be the same. I'm all too aware of what he's said about the option they have to revoke his parole when he goes to his meetings, and I send a huge prayer up that I'm allowed to keep this man in my life.

As I start my work on the desk, I realize I'm stripping back layers, much like I've been doing in my own life since Acno showed up. And when I'm finally done, and the desk is a bare piece of wood, completely uncovered for my eyes, I realize how beautiful it is in its simplicity. The varnish covering it had dulled its sparkle. Looking at the wood, I smile, seeing how porous it is. It'll take the new color magnificently once I'm able to start painting it. It'll adapt to what we need it for really well.

Is that the way Acno sees me? He's pulled back almost every layer I covered myself with. Am I most beautiful when I'm not hiding anything? If that's the case, then I need to explain my fears, I need to be honest, and let him know the only thing holding me back right now is worrying he'll be taken away from us. Worrying that once those hours hit zero he'll decide Erza and I are no longer worth it. Decision made, I decide I'm going to talk to him about it tonight. If I'm going to be all in with him, I want him all in with me.

No pretense, no half-truths, no waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For once in my life, I'm going to face my fear head on and cut it off before it becomes a problem.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Thank you very much for your continuing support, I couldn't believe, this fanfic had reached this far, so thank you, it's all because of you.

Shoutout to BrilliantlyReckless, ERJasandrea13, and Kimchimustard! :)

So almost everyone in the canon are going back to life, huh? How about Irene? Pft.

Leave a review!  
If you have anything to ask, feel free to.


	22. Nowhere I Ever Need to Be Again

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

22

Acnologia

"Jesus Christ," I huff as I pound my feet up the stairs. "I didn't realize how much stuff you would be bringing. I may have revoked my offer if I did," I turn around to grin at Irene.

She shoots me a scowl as she stands at the end of the stairs, trying to figure out how to bring up four bags at once. "I told you," she huffs herself as she starts. "We come with a lot of stuff, and I have to work."

Once I get to the top, I take a breather, watching as she hoofs it up the stairs. When she stands beside me, I lean in. "I'm joking, you know that, right? I asked you to be here because I want you here. You and your five thousand loads of stuff," I laugh, groaning when she knocks me in the stomach.

"Erza, baby girl, can you open the door for mommy?" She smiles at her ever cute daughter but gives me a glare over her shoulder as she enters the apartment before me.

It looks like Erza's made herself comfortable with Tux. That's right, I've given up calling my cat by his given name. He never responded to it, but he does respond to Tux. "Do you need to get your work set up?" I ask her, setting down the last box I carried in.

"Yeah, I'm off from my day job tomorrow since it's Halloween, and I was gonna do my best to knock some stuff out. I won't interrupt you, will I?"

"Distract me maybe, but interrupt me? No," I assure her. Knowing she'll be up here tomorrow by herself is definitely going to be hell on my focus.

She smiles, and the way her lips tilt hits me right in the chest.

"Good, I don't want this," she puts her arms out, indicating all the stuff she's brought in. "To freak you out. I know I come with a lot."

"I knew you did when I asked you to stay."

Apparently my words are the right things to say her smile widens, and she gets to work setting up the things she needs to work. It's weird watching someone else do their job, compared to the way I do mine. Irene's quick and efficient, whereas a lot of time, I'm slow. I take my time getting my tools together and making a game plan of how I'm going to attack a problem. Irene seems to have an assembly line and a focus I've never seen. "You're serious about that," I tilt my head at the machine she's put on my kitchen table, along with her MacBook.

"I have to be," she shrugs. "What I really want to do is be a professional organizer. You know, do for other people, what I'm doing for your office, but it's hard to get your name out there for it. The easiest way for me to even begin is doing all this planner stuff. They've become really popular lately, and I've always loved design. Women eat up these stickers and specific pages I make. But what I'm hoping," she stops fiddling with her printer and pushes her hair back. "Is to eventually transition to just organizing. It's more money, and hands-on, which means I won't be stuck behind a computer forever. I love this, because I'm creative, but I'd rather do the organization because I can see it changing, and when I'm done, people are so excited with their new space."

"How many have you done?"

"Organization jobs?"

I nod, gripping the back of the chair where I stand at the kitchen table. "Four so far, and they've all been free, because I want them for my portfolio. You're my last free one, so you're pretty lucky," she winks.

Smiling back at her, I come around the table, putting my arms around her waist. Leaning in so Erza can't hear, I let my voice drop an octave. "Pretty sure I'm paying you in ways you never thought you'd be paid before."

She breathes deeply and I feel her nipples tighten, rubbing against my chest. "If you wanna make a payment sometime this weekend, I wouldn't be opposed," She whispers back.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Erza's still involved with Tux and the TV is on. She's engrossed in whatever it is she's watching. In a synchronized move, I lean down and run my fingers up Irene's side, tilting her chin with the palm of my hand. She rises up on tiptoes to meet me halfway. When our lips meet, it's the all-consuming rush it always is, and I have to remind myself Erza is here. She's young, she's impressionable, and she doesn't need to see us go at it like two teenagers on a first date. Pulling back is the hardest thing I've ever done. Nipping at her mouth, I slow it down, clearing my throat when we finally release one another.

She rests her head against my collarbone, while I rub my hands up and down her back, soothing the heated rush I know we both feel. It's never been like this with another woman. My heart's never pounded, my mind has never been completely overtaken by thoughts of her, and I haven't ever physically ached to hold another woman in my arms. But with Irene? I'm having all the symptoms of a man who's about to lose his head, heart, and fucking mind. Never once did I think I would be that man, but it sure looks like I'm going to surprise myself.

"Do you have much longer to go here?" I hope my voice doesn't sound as strangled as my balls feel right this instant.

"I have a few orders to fill, which will probably take about an hour."

Her voice sounds breathless and I give myself a pat on the back for doing that to her. One thing about Irene is she makes me feel like a man, you know one of those men who can do anything? She gives me the confidence, the drive, the overwhelming desire to beat my chest and tell everyone who looks our way that this woman is mine. I glance up at the clock, seeing it's late afternoon. I didn't have lunch, I'm fucking hungry.

"How about Sprite and I leave you to it. We'll go grab dinner. By the time we get back, you should be done, right?"

"Are you sure?" her eyes look like they're going to pop out of her head.

"Yeah, we like each other, right Sprite?" I look over at Erza, who's lying on the couch, watching the TV show, Tux on her chest.

"You're okay," she grins at me.

The teasing takes me off-guard. Erza's never teased with me before. Not that I didn't think she was capable, but it's not the type of personality she normally has – at least not a trait I've seen yet. "I'm okay?" I put my hand up to my heart and make a noise like she's stabbed me, before I struggle over to the couch and fall on the side she's not taking up. "You wound me, little girl."

"You'll be fine," she giggles as I tickle her legs. So she's ticklish, just like her mom.

"I sure do hope so, I'd hate to have to go to the hospital and explain a little girl broke my heart."

She puts Tux on the ground before she moves over towards me, curling up next to my side. "I think you're stuck with us."

Fucking emotions I've never felt before tighten my throat, my chest, and every other part of my body that needs oxygen. There's a part of me that's worried about saying the wrong thing, and there's another part of me that says fuck it, say what I want. In the end, what I want wins. "I think you're stuck with me too."

I let my eyes drift to Irene, who's taken her phone out, snapping a picture of us on the couch. With Irene sitting at the table, watching us, and Erza curled around me, I can't think of any way my life could get better than it is right now.

* * *

Irene tossed me her keys as we left the apartment, telling me to take her car to go grab dinner. Fuck that and the little sardine can.

"I'm gonna grab your booster seat out of your mom's car," I tell Erza as we get downstairs. I park in the back of the building, and not many people even know I have my own vehicle.

"Are we riding the bike?" she asks, her voice unsure yet full of adventure as she glances at me.

"No," I can't help but laugh. "I have my own vehicle, but we'll let your mom think I got into her tiny car. She probably thinks it's funny. Me driving with my knees up to my ears."

Erza laughs at the imagery as I go about putting the booster seat in my truck. It takes a few minutes, but we're on the road.

"What should we get, Sprite?" I ask as Erza and I head across the bridge to the strip where all the fast food restaurants are. "What does you mom like?

"Chick-fil-a, soup and nuggets," she answers from the back of the truck.

"I haven't had that in a long time, does it sound good to you?" It amazes me how she was so reluctant when I first met her, and now she's poised enough to give me her opinion on where to eat. I like to think maybe I had something to do with it, but then again, I don't want to give myself too much credit either.

"Yeah," she nods. "I like the nuggets and chocolate shakes."

I wonder if she's allowed to have a chocolate shake, and then decide since she's with me, she can have whatever she wants. "How's school going?" I want to keep her talking, and I like hearing about her days. We don't get time alone often.

"I got a ribbon yesterday," she reaches into the backpack she's brought along with us.

Letting my eyes flash to the backseat, I see her holding it up proudly. "Awesome, Sprite! What'd you get it for?"

"PE," she purses her lips. "I won first place in track and field."

I laugh, because somehow that doesn't surprise me.

* * *

"Acno, does this go up here?" Irene asks as she opens my cupboard, looking for a place to put the pan she got out of my dishwasher.

She's on tiptoe trying to reach it. Taking advantage of the fact that Erza's taking a bath, I come up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her back to my front. There's so many emotions running through my head, I'm not sure how to deal with them. The words I hear coming from my lips are words I never thought I'd speak to another person, because I never thought I was worthy enough after being in jail, to have someone like these two in my life. "When the two of you are here, it makes me feel like I really have a family."

Irene inhales deeply, turning in my arms. "You do," she grips my face with her hands, pulling my head so that my eyes are looking into hers. "As unconventional as this is, as much as some might say I'm crazy, as much as some might say you're crazy – we are a family."

"It's only been two months," I protest, because in my head that's only weeks, and it should take years to form a family. It should take a lifetime.

"Time doesn't matter, Acno," she tries to pull me down so that I'm on the same level as her.

Instead, I grip her around the waist and lift her onto the counter. There we're on the same level. She doesn't have to strain, I don't have to bend.

"Actions matter," she continues. "And I know from the way you make it a point to always include Erza, the way you do things for me – you care. Nobody can fake the amount of okayness you have with the wrench we put in your life. Hell, I've overtaken your kitchen, and part of your living room, just so I can stay here with you. You've never once made me or her feel like we're an inconvenience for you."

"You're not," I lean in, kissing her neck. "What you've given me is a gift, I'm never going to take it for granted."

"Not everyone thinks that way, Acno."

As quick as I can snap my fingers, she's monotone and her brown eyes are clouded. I wonder where the fuck she's gone to.

* * *

Irene

 _"_ _What do you mean you can't come?" I'm starting to panic as I look at my husband, seeing the unbending emotion in his face._

 _"_ _Irene, I told you when we had her, there would be times I couldn't participate, times I couldn't act like other fathers do."_

 _He cuts me down with sharp words, giving me a bored look as he continues putting his cufflinks in his button-down shirt. It infuriates me when he gives me this look. "You don't act like most husbands do, either," I'm pissed and he's going to see the fury, he's going to experience the full wrath of my disappointment._

 _"_ _Don't be a brat," he grabs his suit jacket, putting it over the shirt._

 _"_ _What kind of a man schedules a business dinner on the day of his daughter's recital, but then doesn't even think about the fact his wife can't come? And can I add she does fucking martial arts because it's what you want her to do. Yet you've never seen her do it?"_

 _"_ _She's three, Irene, and do you have to use such vulgar language?"_

 _He's giving me his back, and I hate when he does this more than anything, like he can dismiss me because he's turned away from me. Add to it, I think he's cheating on me, and I've had enough. "You mean the word fucking? Saying it's the only way I'm getting it these days."_

 _He turns back around quicker than I've ever seen him move, and before I know it, I'm pressed up against the wall, my wrists over my head, and his knee between my legs. "You have a problem with our sex life? Maybe you should take a look at yourself. You don't support me. And that long scar in your from the child I didn't want is so a major turnoff. It's not all tight and compact anymore, sweetheart. Have you not noticed how hard it is for me to get it up?"_

 _"_ _You bastard," I fight against the hold of his hands around my wrists._

 _"_ _That's it, honey, fight it. Maybe then I can manage to get a little excited."_

 _Tears pour down my face, I can't believe this is what we've become. Shouta can be harsh, and I realized quickly after we got married, the show he likes to put on for the public. But in private he's never been mean like this. Not even when I told him I was pregnant, knowing he didn't want a child. All the life goes out of me at the words he's spewed my way. I go limp, and he lets me go, allowing me to fall to the floor._

 _"_ _I'll tell Erza you don't feel well," I wipe at the tears on my face._

 _"_ _Don't lie for me, Irene. Tell Erza I don't care to watch a bunch of babies pretending to do punches and kicks on a stage for hours when I can have real, adult conversation. It's best she gets used to disappointment now."_

 _With those words, he's out the door, and I have to figure out how in the hell I'm going to pull myself together in twenty minutes to take Erza. Because that's what mothers do. Be the people our kids count on, and it's apparent now more than ever, she'll never be able to count on her dad._

* * *

Acnologia

"Hey, where'd you go?" I can see the tears pooling in her eyes.

She smiles and shakes her head, leaning in to kiss me softly on the lips. "Nowhere I ever need to be again."

The way it looks like she's trying to spare my feelings rubs me wrong. "Be honest with me, babe, because without honesty, we have nothing."

She's quiet for a few minutes. "When I found Shouta with his secretary, it was kind of a relief. He'd become so cold during the months leading up to the big explosion that happened when we broke up. He didn't appreciate his family, and I think it's time I stop trying to make the memories better than they were. He was a son of a bitch who didn't deserve me or Erza. It's time I let it go, this anger I carry around. The anger prevents me from giving you everything of myself. It was so easy in the beginning to hold onto my sadness, but I don't want to do that anymore."

"Can you elaborate, I'm a little confused," I hug her to me.

Pulling away, her eyes are downcast, which pisses me off; I don't want her to be unsure of ever telling me anything. "Everyone assumed when he left I was heartbroken, and I was, don't get me wrong. I wanted the family, him to love us, his daughter to know who he was, the feeling of security I had with his money in my bank account, and the house I'd built into a home. But none of those things was him, it was everything he could give me. I'm beginning to realize that. I've held onto the sadness and anger because I lost my security and my confidence, not because I lost his love."

Wow, I didn't expect to hear those words from her mouth. I kind of suspected things were different than what she was projecting, but to hear her say it wasn't his love or his presence she's missed gives me hope, hope this woman can be mine. I've held back because I didn't know if she was ready for the intensity that comes along with me, but I know now, she's ready.

"Then I'm warning you now, I'm not holding back anymore."

I can tell by looking in her eyes she knows what I'm talking about. We've removed the gloves, and there's nothing holding either one of us back.

"We have to make sure Erza's taken care of and doesn't get hurt," she whispers. "I can't have her hurt again, I can't have her wondering what she's done wrong."

"I would kill myself before I hurt her or you," I pull her into my arms. "I'm not making you promises I can't keep, because that's what we've built this on, but you're gonna know what you mean to me, Irene."

"I'm scared," she admits, a smile on her face. "But I'm ready."

And so am I.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

I've only got one review last chapter, nevertheless, thank you for the ever avid reviewer **BrilliantlyReckless**! Only 4 chapters left in Fairy Tail!

Leave a review!  
Anyways, if you notice some basis on the canon in this story. Irene has a lot of bags, as Erza is in the canon whenever she goes to a job. Another is Irene's love for bouquet flowers, in the canon, the first appearance of her past self is when she was holding one in the castle. And if you find others, let me know. ;) (Like **Kimchimustard** pointed out, the 'dragon remark')

Love to hear from y'all!


	23. A Wild Ride

**I do not own anything. Credits to Laramie Briscoe and Hiro Mashima.**

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

23

Irene

"Will you be here when I get back?" I ask Acno as I finish doing Erza's hair. I am making it elaborate curls for her costume tonight, it'll totally look good on her. We won't have time to make it work when she gets home from school.

"I don't know, I have to run and get a part, then I have a friend of mine who called and wants me to go look at this bike he's fixing to buy. It depends on how traffic is and if he and I shoot the shit too long," he grins.

Something tells me Acno does things on his own timetable and when he wants to shoot the shit, they talk all day. I wonder how I'm going to get in the apartment, but I don't want to come right out and ask. It seems forward, and I don't want to scare him off.

"What does shooting the shit mean?" Erza pipes up from where she's sitting in front of me. "How can you put poo in a gun?"

Acno and I look at each other, both trying to contain our laughter. Apparently we both forget when little ears are around. "It's a phrase you'll learn about when you get older," Acno tells her, tapping her nose as he walks by. "Besides, young ladies shouldn't say four-letter words like that."

"What four-letter words should we say?" She questions.

I want to laugh, because Erza is really inquisitive before she goes to school in the morning. Every day it's like this. Question after question, and sometimes I lose my patience if we're running late, but I'm surprised how Acno is handling it like a pro.

"Hmm, cute, wild, girl, star, love…" I tell her lovingly.

"You're like a thesaurus," Acno laughs at me as I continue taking the rollers out of Erza's hair.

"Love is a good one," Erza muses as she takes a bite of the donut he's brought her, and a sip of the orange juice I found in his fridge.

"It is a good one," I agree. "I love you," I tell her, leaning in to give her a kiss, making a loud smacking noise.

"I love you too, Mommy!" she laughs, trying to get away from me. "I love Acky, too," she looks up at him, a smile on her face.

Quickly my eyes cut to him; if I hadn't been expecting those words from her mouth about him, they had to be completely off of his radar. He's stunned, I can tell by the expression on his face, the way it's gone almost deathly white. He's holding his chest, and I pray to God he's not about to have a heart attack. I don't know what to say, and just as I'm about to make a joke of some sort, Acno finds his voice.

"I love you too, kiddo." His voice is hoarse, like he hasn't spoken the words in a long time.

Erza beams up at him from where we sit. "I know, mommy can we puh-lease finish my hair so we can go?" She turns to me, giving me a look.

I'm stunned but go back to fixing it. In the next minute, my world turns on its axis again when Acno stands in front of me. "In case I'm not here by the time you get back…" he's dangling a key from his fingers. "Yours to keep."

"Th…Thank you," I force between my lips.

He leans down, kisses me on the cheek, and speaks in my ear. "I'm gonna have to leave here before I lose my shit, but know I'm gonna visit you this afternoon."

The implication of what he's saying makes my cheeks burn. "I'll be waiting."

"Have a good day at school, Sprite," he waves at Erza as he gets up to leave.

"You have a good day too, Acky. Love you," she blows him a kiss with her palm.

He turns around, pretending to catch it as he smacks his cheek with the palm of his own hand. "Got it, you be good." He doesn't say it back to her, but I know it's going to take time, and she doesn't mind, because immediately she starts jabbering to Tux.

Me? I need a few minutes to process what's happened, but I know it won't come until I'm back here with a few hours of quiet time under my belt. Just let it happen, I tell myself. I snap the barrette in her hair, hoping like hell it doesn't break before the end of the day.

"You ready?"

"Yup," she gets up, grabbing her stuff as she goes.

"You sure you don't want me to bring anything to your party at school?" I ask one more time as we prepare to head out the door.

"Sure," she nods. "I'm thinking of strawberry cake, but I don't want sharing it, it's our secret recipe."

I laugh, because I feel the same way. Like mother, like daughter.

* * *

An hour later, I'm letting myself back into Acno's apartment with my key. Who would have thought I'd ever say those words? Not me, at least not this early in our relationship at all. After I got divorced, I was the woman who always said I'll never get married again. I'm not looking for a man, I don't need a man, I'm going to work on me for a while.

And I have been. I've been working on me for almost two years. I've devoted those two years to getting back on my feet, becoming independent, and figuring out what I want most out of life. The things I want have changed as each time I've met a goal, I've re-evaluated. Just like I'm doing now. I've made myself vulnerable with Acno, and while it scares me, it's also something I had to do. I'm never going to move on if I don't give a piece of myself to someone else. Acno is the only person I've wanted to open up to, so I'm going to go with it.

My phone rings, not recognizing the number, I send it straight to voice mail. I know it's not a bill collector, because for the first time in almost a year, I have my shit together. Sitting down, I glance at my to-do list, trying to prioritize what I need to do first, and what I have time to do before I'm interrupted or I have to go pick Erza up.

Grabbing my phone to turn on my Spotify, I see the caller left a message, but I'll check it later, it's not a big deal. As long as it's not school, I'm not going to worry about it.

To-do list made, Caramel Macchiato at my side, and my favorite playlist blaring. I'm ready to get shit done.

* * *

Acnologia

I keep telling myself not to go upstairs, not to bother her. She has a job to do, just like me, and I wouldn't appreciate it if someone interrupted me. It's so tempting, knowing she's a few feet from me. A flight of stairs and a door separate us. The apartment's empty and we won't have to worry about Erza for a few more hours.

I'm hard just thinking about it.

Like I-feel-like-I-could-break-my-skin so hard. It would be embarrassing if I didn't need her so much. But just like Erza, Irene's become an important part of my life. When they told me about the program, I didn't expect either one of them, and I surely didn't think the little girl would be telling me she loved me. More than anything, I didn't think I'd be telling her the same, but I do. She's important to me, and she's a blessing I never thought I'd have.

That's neither here nor there right now, because I know her mom is upstairs, alone for the next few hours.

"Acnologia, don't make this all about you," I warn myself, using my full name to give myself the worst admonishment I can.

In other situations, in other relationships, I've been selfish. I put my own needs first, and it's landed me in places I never want to go back to again. Sitting down on my stool, I try to focus on the bike in front of me, but immediately my thoughts turn to Irene. Like a movie, the time we've spent together plays on a loop in my head. All the smiles, the sexy little smirk she gets once she knows she's got me, the bashful blush covering her face when we start anything sexual, and then the way that blush transforms to a woman who knows exactly what she wants. I want everything about her, and I decide pretty quickly to close up shop for the rest of the day.

The work will still be here in the morning, but there's a part of me that wonders if Irene will be. What's going to happen when she wises up and realizes she's too good for me? It hurts too much to think about, so I'll enjoy the happiness I have, for however long I have it.

* * *

Walking up the stairs to my apartment, I try to tell myself to keep this slow. Don't go in there like a fucking caveman and haul her to the bedroom. I should be nice and seduce her, I haven't done that yet. Who the hell am I kidding, I've never, not once in my life, seduced anyone, and I'm not even sure I'd be able to do it. For Irene, though, I'd try. I know that without a shadow of a doubt. For her I would give anything a try.

Love. The four-letter word Erza asked me about earlier comes to my mind. Does the willingness to try anything mean I love Irene? The thought stops me right in the middle of the stairs. Loving Irene is much messier than loving Erza and I'm not completely sure I want to admit how my heart feels or what my mind is pushing me towards. All I'm ready to admit is how much I physically want her, and how much my arms ache to hold her when she's not around. Right now, it's all I can give. Her or myself.

When I enter my apartment, I have to grin because she's jamming to rock music I never expected her to be listening to as she bobs her head, watching her pages print out. I don't want to scare her, but I'm also enjoying the little show she's giving me, this peek into her life, one I've not been privy to yet. Leaning against the door, I cross my arms and feet, settling in to watch what's going down in front of me.

She sings along to a song I recognize as one by Green Day. One of my favorite bands. Glad to know we have that in common.

"Fuckin' hell," she groans as she sees something on her computer screen.

A scowl darkens her face, as she taps her fingers on the keyboard, and then starts moving the tips on the trackpad. "Line up, damn it."

This is a side of her I've never seen, and I'm loving it. "It'd probably respond better if you didn't cuss it, I think it's probably getting offended."

She jumps almost completely out of her chair as I make my presence known.

"Shit!" she grabs her chest, as she eyes me like she wants to murder me. "You scared the ever-loving hell out of me."

"I was enjoying the show," I grin. "You've got good taste in music."

She shakes her head. "I was always told rock wasn't what girls listen to, but it's the music of my soul."

"I grew up sneaking into concerts," I shrug. "Actually, that's why I did my stint in Juvie."

Her mouth gapes open. "Because you snuck into a concert?"

"I have a hard time being kept out of places, what can I say? On top of that, I was drinking underage, I was belligerent to the officer who arrested me, apparently told him to go fuck himself, and just a general nuisance. My mom wouldn't come get me, so they hauled me off," I run my hand through my hair. "Looking back on the shithead I was, I deserved it. But let me tell you, being in Juvie is no fun."

"How long were you there for?"

"Couple of days until my mom finally came to get me. What they charged me with wasn't anything that held time with it, but I had to do some community service. This wasn't my first go-round."

I hate admitting all these things to her. It makes it look like I haven't changed, I haven't grown up. Putting voice to the things I've done in my past makes it seem as if I'm on this endless loop that never changes. More than anything I want her to see I have changed, I've made steps in my life to correct my wrongs and be a better person. I just keep getting in my own fucking way.

"I'm not judging you, Acno," she says softly as she takes a sip of her coffee and gets up.

"I'm judging myself."

She walks slowly towards me, rolling her hips as she does. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she doesn't realize she's doing it and that's what makes her sexy to me. Nothing Irene Scarlet does is pre-meditated or meant to ensnare me in some sort of trap I'm not ready for.

"Don't," she saunters up to me, grabbing my hand. "Don't beat yourself up over a past you can't change. More than anything, I've learned I can't change my past. I can't make the mistakes I've made go away. They're there, regardless of how I wish or hope they aren't. What I can do is work to be a better person for however many days I have left on this planet. That's the only thing in my control. Nothing else matters, because I can't control the way people react to me, the way they perceive me, or the way I make them feel. The only thing I can do is be a good person, love myself, and be a good example for my daughter."

"I'm not a good example."

"You weren't a good example, but you're a great one now. You're building your business, you're patient with her, you attend her aikido lessons when you have no fucking clue what the hell it is she's doing there, you carved a pumpkin with her, and took her to your shop. Whether you know it or not, you're giving her the one thing money can't, Acno, and that's memories. Neither me nor her want anything more than your time and the ability to be in your life. None of that has to do with what you've done in the past."

"What I've done in the past is what brought you to me," I remind her.

She grins, stepping up, putting her arms around my neck. "Then that's a blessing from God, because I swear to you, our lives have been a thousand times better since you walked in that room."

"So has mine," I grip her around the waist, picking her up, putting her legs around me. I can't have this heart-to-heart with her anymore, she can see too deeply into the real me. The shield I usually have in place slips a lot when she's around.

Squealing, she locks her feet around my waist. "I've never done it up against a wall before," she whispers in my ear.

Challenge. Accepted. I turn her around so her back's to the wall.

She giggles. "But I think the clothes are going to be a little bit of a problem."

"No problem at all," I release her legs and tap her ass, motioning for her to put her feet on the ground. Once she's got her feet under her, I snag the edges of her long-sleeve t-shirt, pulling it over her head. "Get where I'm goin' with this?"

"Sure do," she reaches over, pushing her hands up my shirt, letting her nails score the flesh of my stomach as she lifts the material up and over my head. "You finish yours, I finish mine?"

"Funny thing is, I was gonna try to seduce you since we have some time alone. You know, try to be sweet and romantic, not just fuck your brains out like I seem to have done every other time we've been together."

"You'll hear no complaints from me about how you've treated me so far, but right now, for today, I think I want it hard and fast. I want the man who can't keep his hands off me."

Her words send a shot of heat straight down to my groin. If that's what she wants, then who am I to deny her? "Hold on tight," I grab hold of her waist, and hoist her up against the nearest wall. I figured the door might be pushing it.

Twining her arms around my neck, she pulls me close, fusing our mouths together. The kiss is a slow fuck of our mouths; tongues twining, breath combining, moans being eaten up by our need to be all up in each other's business. Never in my life have I felt a kiss like this, have I felt the type of emotion in a kiss. It's one hundred percent Irene, and I fight not to let myself sink too deeply into the comfort of her arms and legs around me. There's always a chance she's going to wise up and realize I'm an ex-convict who has no business even being around her and Erza. The hours are counting down quickly to zero and I'm scared to death.

"Where are you?" she asks as she pulls back from the kiss, gripping the hair on my head. "Don't think about anything but me when I'm in your arms, because I can assure you, you're the only thing I'm thinking about when you're in mine."

It's a slap in the face as I realize I've been doing her a disservice by thinking ahead, assuming how we're going to end, before we've even gotten there. It's my damage, not hers, and at this moment, I tell myself I'm not going to look for the end of this. I'm not going to doom us until either one of us decides it's over. I have to tell her.

"Thinking about what's going to happen to me when those hours hit zero," I cup her face with my hands, pushing her body further into the wall to keep her steady, with my own. "Hoping like hell that doesn't mean the end of us."

"Do you want it to be the end of us?" she asks, her eyes the brownest-goldest I've ever seen them, as clear as I've ever seen them.

I shake my head, looking up at the ceiling because her eyes are too much for me. "No, I hope like hell it's just the beginning, but I also understand what being with me means. I understand a thousand percent what I'm asking of you. I'll never get rid of the label the courts gave me. I'll always be an ex-convict."

She pulls my head down, forcing our gazes to meet. "And I'll always be the woman whose husband left her to be with his secretary. I'll always be labeled, in his circle, as the woman who trapped him in a pregnancy and hoped I'd trap him into the rest of a life-long marriage. Guess what, Acno? That doesn't define me," she grips my chin, and fuck if that doesn't turn me on, too. "It used to define me, but you've shown me another way. What defines me now is the smile on my daughter's face when she realizes we're going to spend time with you, and the way you look at me when I enter a room. I'm not asking you for promises you can't make. We've both been there," she leans in, kissing me softly. "What I'm asking you for is the chance, the truth, and the understanding we'll tell each other if this doesn't work anymore. I want fucking honesty, and honestly…neither one of us can change our past. It's labels and it hurts, but it's not here between us, not right now."

There are no words for what she's just told me. I can't hold it together and speak, so I don't.

"And if you didn't get what I was saying, I don't give a shit about the zero hour. Once that's over, which will be this week, because you've spent so much time with her, we can be free with one another. There won't be anything held over our heads, even if it never was to begin with."

Just like that, I don't want to talk to her anymore, I want to show her what she means to me. Blowing her mind is my only objective, and if there's one thing about me, it's I've got a one-track mind when there's something I want to accomplish.

Today. This afternoon. I want to accomplish rocking Irene's world.

"Hang on, babe. It's gonna be a wild ride."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Still updating and I don't know why because FT is done, but a promise is a promise.

ERJasandrea13: Here's the against the wall ;)

Thank you everyone for your continuing support. Since FT is already done, I'm not sure where this fic is going. I may one day, just stop updating this fic. But thank you everyone for reviewing from time to time, you are very much appreciated.

Leave a review!


	24. Trick or Treat?

I do not own anything. Credits to Laramie Briscoe and Hiro Mashima.

* * *

24

Irene

I wasn't exactly prepared for what Acno had in mind when he said it was going to be a wild ride. There were many things that ran through my head when I heard those words. What didn't run through my head was him lifting me completely over his shoulders with my back against the wall, spreading my legs with his shoulders, and connecting his mouth to my core.

"Oh Holy Jesus," I gasp, reaching for something, anything to hang onto. There isn't anything and I do my best not to think about how high up in the air I am. I'm short, he's taller than I ever thought about being, and the only thing holding me here are his hands pressing against my thighs and his mouth against my pussy. If I die, it'll be a hell of a way to go.

He pulls his mouth back, grinning up at me. "Relax Irene, I got this."

I've trusted him with a lot of things so far, and he's managed to pass every test. Why not trust him here? Even if I do feel like I'm on display for the whole world to see. "Okay," I tilt my head back against the wall and close my eyes.

"Just enjoy it," he whispers as he moves closer. "Take one of those hands you have plastered against the wall and rub it up and down your stomach. Feel your soft skin, how hot you are for this."

His voice is weaving a spell around me, making me do things I've never done before. But maybe that's the advantage of having Acno in my life. He makes me think outside the box, makes me want to do things I've never done before. Listening to his soft words, I run the palm of my hand up my stomach, until I feel the edge of my breast.

"Let go, Irene," he whispers again before I feel him back in between my thighs, tongue lightly stroking my clit.

It feels good, especially when I run my palm over the slight swell of my breast and close two fingers around my nipple. As I close them around the pebbled skin, he uses two fingers to breach my tight tunnel. "Ohhhhh," I moan as he plants his shoulders further against the wall, holding me up with his strength. Suspended like this is an arousal all on its own because I feel weightless, the only thing holding me there are his tongue on my clit and his fingers working the depths of my core. It forces me to focus on nothing but those sensations. "Fuuucccckkk," I breathe out, using my other hand to grasp the hair at the back of his head, pulling him closer to me. I want to thrust against his tongue and his fingers, but I'm scared to fall. Instead I press my body further back against the structure holding me up and let him work me. I give over every aspect - except for my fingers squeezing my nipple - of my pleasure to him.

He's taking my pleasure, I hope our pleasure. I'm letting him play my body like the conduction of a symphony, and I can feel the climax coming. Already my body is strung tight even though I'm relaxing into his touch. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything, because it means freedom for me. Freedom from feeling like I wasn't sexy, from holding myself back, from the thumb my ex-husband had me under. Acno is eating me like I'm his last meal, and I'm giving myself over to it. I never would have been able to let my insecurities go before to enjoy this.

There's a humming in my ears, and I realize it's me. I'm moaning, almost whining, every time he withdraws his fingers, then slides them back in. My body is clenching on him, my nub of pleasure is seeking his tongue, and Acno isn't disappointing, I don't think he could ever disappoint me.

The orgasm is like a freight train when it hits me out of nowhere. I tense tighter than I've ever tensed before, squeezing my thighs, but Acno is right there, holding them wide. I wiggle, trying to get away from the level of sensation he's erupted inside my body, but he moves with me, pressing one hand against my stomach, the other holding my thigh wide. His voice is muffled between my legs.

"Where are you tryin' to go, baby? Just let it happen."

And happen it does on the tail end of the first vortex into pleasure I'm flung into another. A scream rips from my throat as I finally give up trying not to thrust against him. I thrust with everything I'm worth, screaming, yanking his hair, words fly from my mouth, and I don't even know what I'm saying. For a window of time, I don't remember what happens. All I know is when I come back to myself, we're lying in his bed with his mouth on my nipple, stroking it lazily with his tongue. His big body is between my thighs and the weight of his stomach is against mine.

I gasp, because it's like waking up to the best dream ever.

"Welcome back," he leans up to nuzzle my neck.

"That's never happened before," I admit, winding my arms around his waist, holding him close, because I need the connection with him right now. Knowing he can play my body the way he just has is a shock to my system.

He chuckles as his tongue sweeps against my earlobe, tugging on the earring there. "Glad to be of service to you, and really damn proud I'm the first one to make you feel that way."

His hard cock is making its presence known against my leg, sending shivers through my body. As nice as the precursor was, I still like the main event the most. "Me too, but you know what I like more than what you did earlier?"

"What's that?" he captures my mouth with his, kissing me so deeply I can feel it all over.

"When you slowly slide your cock into me, wait for me to adjust, and then fuck me hard."

The deep intake of breath and loud moan I get from him is everything to me. It tells me without words the depth of his feelings. Grasping him tightly around the waist, I adjust our bodies so all he has to do is slip in and slide home. He pushes me up higher as he thrusts into my body, so high that I'm moving towards the headboard. Taking one hand off his waist, I brace myself against the wood frame.

"Can't get fucking deep enough," he growls in my ear, sliding one had to my ass, and grasping the headboard with the other. He uses both as leverage to slid deep, withdraw fast, and fuck me again.

The noise as the wooden frame hits the wall is only drowned out by our moans, the sounds of our bodies slapping together. Sweat is pouring off him, sweat is pouring off me. We slide against each other. It's the messiest, noisiest bout of sex I've ever been involved in. The thought makes me clamp tighter on him. He's the person who could bring this side of me out, the only person I've ever trusted this much. If up to me, he's the only person I'll ever trust this much again. The thought is shocking because I've never thought of Acno as long term, those hours have always been at the back of my mind. Knowing he wants something past the hours, I feel free to give over every part of myself. And that's what I'm going to do.

"Irene, oh fuck," he throws his head back, the strong column of his throat exposed. I reach up, raking my fingernails down it, and that's when I feel him let go inside my body. The warmth bathes me, and I love it. It sends a smaller orgasm through my body, and I tumble head first into pleasure with Acno. I can feel his body, trembling against mine. I love that I'm able to make this man shake in my arms. Just like I shook in his earlier, he's shaking in mine now.

Lightly, his hips rock against mine as he collapses on top of me. I take his weight gladly, brushing his wet hair out of his face. He breathes heavily against me, wrapping his arms around me, holding our bodies tightly together.

"Don't leave me," he whispers, and I know it's words he never thought he'd be saying. They're words he probably didn't want to say, but he has now, and he can't take them back.

"I won't, don't you leave me."

He kisses the side of my neck. "They'd have to pull my dead body away."

I know he's telling the truth, because Acno doesn't do lies. Content and relaxed, I let my body drift off. "We can't sleep too long," I warn him. I have to get up and dressed for Acno or treating, and we have to pick up Erza from school.

"We won't," he reaches down, pulling the sheet up around our bodies.

Here, in the light of late morning, with his weight over me and arms around me wrapped in our own little cocoon, I finally have everything I've ever wanted. The man, the cat, the kid, and the feeling of complete happiness. My only wish? It lasts forever. My biggest fear? That it won't.

* * *

"I just have to finish my hair," I tell Acno as he's getting out of the shower behind me while I press myself closer to the sink.

It's been years since I shared a bathroom with a man, and I forgot how it felt. How, if the two of you are really into one another, it's a piece of an intimate puzzle. There are little touches here and there as you move about, little meetings of your eyes in the mirror as you go about your business. Those little smiles as you both realize you've been staring at each other for too long.

"Take your time," he reaches around me, grabbing his brush. It brings our bodies flush with one another, and I revel in the strength of his chest.

"Wish I could," I laugh. "But we spent too much time in bed, and now we've gotta go get Erza."

He laughs too, the sound deep and reverberating off the walls of the small room. "We had a good time though, didn't we?"

Like he even has to ask. "Best time I've had all year."

We share one of those looks in the mirror, ending with a secret smile as I clip my hair and give it a good spray. Grabbing my bag, I bring it with me, because we'll be getting ready in the garage. It's too difficult for Erza to walk up and down stairs with her costume.

"I just have to put my clothes on and then I'm ready," he yells over his shoulder as he leaves the room. "You sure you can do me a quick costume?"

"Everything I need is in my bag," I pat the duffel I've packed.

"You ready?" he asks as he comes down the hallway, buckling his belt.

We got ready in record time, but we're both still smiling as I nod. "Yeah, are you going to be able to fit in my car?"

"I have a truck," he dangles some keys in front of me. "I don't drive it often because I'm not a huge fan of not having the wind blowing through my hair, but sometimes it's just too cold to ride the bike."

This is news to me, but good news. I wasn't sure he'd fit in my car. But then again, trucks are small. "We'll all be able to fit?"

"It's extended cab, enough room for six. We just need to grab Erza's booster."

Easy enough to do, I'm a pro at transferring and putting in car seats. "Alright then, let's go."

* * *

Acno's truck is as sexy as he is. Black, just like the bike, big and hulking, just like him.

"I feel so high up!" Erza giggles from where she sits in the backseat.

"Right?" he looks at her through the rearview. "You're not a sitting duck, like you are in that little car your mom drives."

"Don't make fun of it," I lean across the console, smacking him with the back of my hand.

Erza pushes her glasses up on her nose. "Is something wrong with your glasses, cheesecake?"

"They don't fit her properly," Acno says from beside me. "I noticed it the other day and meant to say something to you about it, but we got busy," he leans in, because we're at a stop light. "She didn't want to cost you anymore money."

My throat closes and I fight back a feeling of dread and tears that immediately prick behind my eyes. Maybe I haven't been as discrete as I should've been when it comes to discussing personal matters in front of Erza. I know that after today, I'll be much better about it. "We'll make you an appointment tomorrow," I turn around, pasting a smile on my face.

Acno's hand caresses the back of my neck, reaching up under my hair. "You're a great mom," he whispers. "You're not perfect, but no one is." Strangely enough, those words comfort me more than any others could have.

* * *

As we get to the shop through the crazy traffic of the night, he parks in front, and hops out, holding the door open for Erza and helping her down. Be still my beating heart, because everything he does with her is amazing.

"You ready to go trick or treating?" I ask her as I come around the car, pushing my sunglasses up.

"Yeah!"

I can tell she really is; her eyes are bright, and she's got so much excitement, she's bouncing with it. "Okay, let's go inside, put a little bit of glitter on your face, do mine and Acno's, grab your wings, and off we go."

I hope this only takes a few minutes, but I know in reality it'll take an hour.

"Do Acky first," she tells me, jumping up and down as she holds onto his hand. I'm not sure why she's so excited to see Acno made up, but she is.

"Okay, okay," I laugh, pulling the chair out that's closest to the door so I have the best light. He has a seat, and Erza scrambles up into his lap. That too is surprising to me, but there's one thing I now realize about my daughter. She is completely in love with this man, the way only a child can be.

"You sure you're okay with me doing this?" I want to make sure before I start, because he'll look dumb if I stop in the middle.

"Don't you know by now that I trust you with everything?"

And those are the only words I need.

An hour later, Acno is made up, his face painted to tribal-like markings - he says he's a dragon slayer with his cape and fangs. I laugh at the idea, I call him a tribal vampire. I am slipping on my hat, while helping Erza with her wings.

"We ready?" Erza shakes her head. "All right, let's show Acno our costumes."

When we come out, I clear my throat, because he's watching the kids already roaming up and down the street. He turns around and the look on his face is priceless. He winked at me, eyes hungry, and went closer.

"Holy shit," he claps a hand over his mouth. "You're a fairy."

"Or Sprite," I laugh.

"You pay attention," he nods, and pulls his face closer to my ear. "Will you give me a moment of entertainment, my sexy enchantress?" He whispers noting my witch costume.

"Oh, I aim to please, but we gotta trick or treat" I whispered back.

"I want a treat of you." His eyes hungry as he gave me a once-over.

"Child alert," I winked.

He fakely scowled and reached for Erza's hand.

"I do pay attention," I smirked and reached into my phone. "Let me take a picture of you two."

Acno reaches down, picking her up. Erza goes with no fuss and wraps her arms around Acno's neck. If someone didn't know they weren't father and daughter, they would truly think she was a product of his love. And maybe she is, because he's had way more influence on her than her own father has.

"Let's take one of all three of us," he grabs my phone from my hand and slings his arm around my shoulders. Cramming us all together, he reaches out with his long arm, and we take our first official picture as a family. It's one I know I'll frame and keep forever, but it's also one that scares me to death. A unit is a target, and little did we know, we'd made ourselves one without even meaning to.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Halloween is near approaching! Just some little trick or treating!

How are you everyone?

Leave a review, okay?


	25. A Free Man

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

25

Acnologia

To say I'm nervous is an understatement. No matter if I've done something wrong or not, knowing I have to explain myself to what amounts to a group of judgmental assholes is never a fun thing to do. My foot taps uncontrollably on the floor, and I pull my phone out of my pocket, gazing at the picture me, Irene, and Erza took on Halloween. It's the only thing that calms me down some days, and I feel like I have a fucking target on my back, especially at places like this.

"Relax," Silver, clamps his hand on my knee. "You have nothing to be worried about. This is a technicality."

"One that could send me back to prison if someone deems fit to," I argue. The thought's crossed my mind a ton this week, so much that tonight's the first night Erza and Irene are staying at their own apartment since Halloween. I've kept them as close as I can, and the only reason they went back tonight is because Irene has to do laundry. I don't have my own washer and dryer yet, but you can bet your ass as soon as I'm out of this meeting and I know they aren't sending me back to jail, I'm running out to buy a set. I want them with me all the time, I'm a better man when they're with me.

"You know as well as I do that's a snowball's chance in hell, Acno. You've done great with the program, you completed your hours in record time, and you look fucking happy. You're a model for what this program was meant to do. I hope they see how successful you've been and offer it to others."

I don't give two shits about others; all I want to do is get home to the woman who makes my world turn round, hear the kid who makes my heart melt, giggle as she chases the cat, and not have to think about this shit until my next parole meeting. Which are getting fewer and farther in between.

"Acnologia Belserion."

Just hearing them call my name sends a ribbon of fear down my chest, deep into my stomach. They have the power to ruin my life, to destroy what I've worked hard to build, and that's the scariest thing of all. None of them would think twice about it.

"C'mon," Silver tells me as he grabs my file. "Let's get this over with."

We walk into the room, and there's a table. Before it sits another table, three men and two women watching me. I can feel the judgment already. This was exactly what my first parole hearing looked and felt like.

We have a seat, and Silver's the first to speak. "Ladies and Gentlemen, as Acnologia's parole officer, we're here to provide proof he's fulfilled the community service stipulation, his restitution payments are on time, and he's kept himself a law-abiding citizen since his release. If it would please the court, we're asking you to allow him to go to bi-monthly meetings as long as he checks in with a phone call every week. He has done everything the court has asked him to do, and it's redundant for him to have to continue to see me every two weeks, when I've had no problems out of him and he's building a business."

I sit here, listening to people talk about me as if I don't matter, as if they're discussing what they're going to have for dinner tonight.

"A business?" What looks to be the oldest person on the board asks.

"Yes, sir," I answer. "I'm a mechanic, and I'm building a clientele."

"How many clients do you have?" he asks as he looks at a piece of paper. "How many lives would we disrupt if we revoked probation and stuck you back in?"

I hate this, every little bit of it. I know he's being a hardass on me, because that's what they're supposed to do. I'm supposed to feel remorse for what I've done, and I'm supposed to prove I'm a changed man. I am a changed man, but I don't know if any of these people will ever be able to see it.

"Around twenty," I tell him, adjusting in the seat so that I can set up straighter. "But I have a lot of walk-ins, and many people call me for my thoughts and expertise. The people whose lives would be disrupted the most if you put me back in though are those I've been working to help, specifically the little girl you've asked me to mentor. She looks up to me, she loves me," I say the words, even though they're hard to get through my tight throat. "Told me so herself the other day. If I'm ripped from her life, I think it would undo all the good I've done."

I watch as they huddle their heads together, tapping my fingers on the wood table. I know from experience this whole thing usually takes less than twenty minutes. Isn't that crazy? Twenty minutes to decide your life. Less time than a sitcom to decide if you're worthy of being kept out of prison. It's always struck me as cold, and I feel the chill in my body today.

"Mr. Belserion," the same man speaks as the group breaks apart. "It appears as if you're doing good things. Continue doing what you're doing, and remain out of trouble. We've decided to go with your parole officer's recommendation. Good luck to you, young man."

"Thank you, sir," I get up from the chair and push away from the table so fast I'm pretty sure I could have toppled both of them. Running through the hallway, I make it to the door, bursting through, inhaling the fresh air in my lungs. Bending at my waist and putting my hands on my knees, I inhale deeply, telling my pounding heart to slow down.

"You're good, Acno," Silver comes up behind me, rubbing my back. "You're good."

"I was scared," I admit, breathing heavily, wiping sweat from my forehead as I straighten up. "You don't realize how claustrophobic you are until you're stuck somewhere you don't want to be, and I told myself I'd never be back there again. Going before them, even if it was to prove I had completed the conditions of my probation scared the fuck outta me."

"It's not unusual," Silver gives me a bottle of water.

I drink quickly and heavily from the bottle, letting the liquid moisturize my parched throat. There are only two people I want to see right now. Irene and Erza are my home, they are the things that ground me, and I need grounding right now. I know we've never discussed it, but if they can't come to me, I'll go to them. Consequences be damned.

I remember the way to Irene's apartment from the night I helped her off the bridge. That night seems like so long ago, when it was only weeks. So much has happened in such a short amount of time. It makes my head spin, but in a good way. I wouldn't change a bit of it for the world. All my bad decisions have lead me to this moment, and that in itself is one of the most profound conclusions I've ever come to. Things happen for a reason, and while we may not understand the reasons in the beginning, we damn well figure them out in the end.

Parking my truck, because I wanted to make a good impression, I head up to the apartment I know Irene and Erza live in. Maybe I should have called first, but I'm so fucking excited to see them. Knocking quickly and loudly on the door, I can't help but call out. "Irene!"

"Acno?" she questions as she answers, opening the door for me.

I don't wait for her to say anything else, I pick her up, spin her around, and plant a kiss on her right there. In the back of my mind, I can hear Erza clapping, happily giggling as I finally pull back from the kiss.

"What the hell's going on?" Her eyes are wide, and I see just how much I've surprised her.

"I'm free." The two words are like a mic drop in the room and we both feel the weight of them.

"Free?" She twines her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, our eyes locking. "Free? As in…"

"As in, I'm still on probation, and I'll never have a squeaky-clean record, but I've met all the terms. As long as I continue to pay my restitution and stay out of trouble, I'm free," I breathe the words out against her neck as I pull her into my arms.

She hangs on tightly, tighter than anyone else has ever held onto me before. The strength of her hold brings tears to my eyes. Not one person in my life has ever tried to hold me this close to them, ever cared where I was, or what happened to me. She doesn't have to tell me how she feels, because I can tell, just by the way she holds me. At my knee, I can feel something, I look down, and Erza's got her arms wrapped around me, too.

"You're not going away?" She looks up at me, the same brown eyes as her mom, and it takes everything I have for me not to drop to my knees in relief.

"No, Sprite, I'm not," I reluctantly let go of Irene, bend down and pick up Erza. "You're stuck with me."

She grins as I hug her closer to me. "I think it's the other way around."

I laugh because I don't care which way it is, all I want to know is we'll be together, as a unit, in the future. There's no way I can go back to my apartment, not after the emotional day I've had.

"Do you wanna stay here tonight, with us?" Irene grips me around the waist with one arm, Erza with the other. In the circle of her arms, we're that family I've always wanted to be.

"I'd love to, but tomorrow you're coming home with me, after we go buy a washer and dryer."

She shakes her head, opening her mouth to protest, but I cut her off with a kiss. No other kiss has tasted better, because tonight, I'm just a free man kissing the woman who's completely changed his life.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

It's been a while, huh. I couldn't post any updates because fanfiction had encountered an error.

Anyways, as long as people keeps reviewing, here it goes.

Thank you, ROBINON and TalkAlot35.

Drop comments, reviews, questions, requests. Y'all be appreciated.


	26. Try Harder

I still do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

 **Their Last Hope**

26

 _Irene_

"Can Acky help me with my homework tonight?"

My kid, she surprises me all the time. In the past few weeks we've been at Acno's apartment, she's become even more attached, but she's never asked him to help with schoolwork.

"You'll have to ask him," I glance over my shoulder from where I'm doing the dishes. Funny how when I was with my ex-husband housework seemed just that – work. Here, with Acno, I enjoy it. I like the way his dark eyes light up when I've done something he didn't expect me to do. The first night we were here, I changed the sheets on his bed. You would think I gave him a gold coin and told him it was worth a million dollars. He appreciates everything I do, and it means everything to me.

"Acky," she kicks her feet where she's sitting at the kitchen table. "Will you help me with my spelling words?"

I can tell by the set of his shoulders my big man is trying to get his emotions under control. Erza tears him apart with the simplest of requests, and I know the things she does without thinking are things he never thought he'd have. Just by being her, she's changed him. He smiles more, his shoulders aren't as tense, and he talks more about the future. It's almost like a switch has been flipped in his personality.

He gets up from where he was sitting on the couch watching some show, sauntering over to where she sits. I don't mean to stare, but damn– this man wears a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt like no one I've ever seen before. The material of the pants slip low on his hipbones, and I can't wait to get him alone so I can see what they look like as they come off. Another thing that positively gets me excited is the fact he didn't try to ask her to wait until his show was over. No, Erza asked Acno to help her, he put the remote down, walked over, and is now sitting next to her at the table. Their heads are bent together, and it kicks me in the stomach. She finally has what she's deserved for so very long - the male figure she's always wanted.

"What are we workin' on, Sprite?" he asks, bumping her shoulder with his.

"Spelling," she gazes up at him with glasses that no longer slide down her nose. "I have to do these five words," she points to the piece of paper in front of her.

"While you two get on that, I'm gonna go take a shower."

I like to give them the space and opportunity to spend time together. I enjoy the quiet for a while, and she enjoys someone else's company besides mine. It's added a whole other layer to our dynamic.

"We got this," Acno grabs her pencil and taps it on the word he wants her to spell as they get to work.

He gets everything, and I worry what happens when maybe we move on, or what if he moves on. The thought tightens my chest, and I tell myself every day not to think about it. To not put the negative thoughts in the world, to not give them power, but as someone who's lived life the way I have for the last few years, it's hard not to.

I give them a smile and then head back to the bathroom.

There's no denying it, I realize as I shut the bathroom door. If we continue to stay with him, we're going to have to have a talk about a bigger apartment. Plus, I'm paying rent on something I'm not spending any time in. I don't want to seem forward, but as I look at the crowded sink, full of stuff that's all three of ours, the reality sets in. Regardless of how we started this, we're together, and God willing, we will be for a long time.

It's something I haven't let myself think about, but now that he's free, I've kind of let my mind go there a couple of times. If we're still together in a year, where will we be? Who will be the first to tell the other they love them – because in a year, we'll definitely be that far. I've thought, with the way he treats Erza, what if he wants a child of his own? I'm not getting any younger and thirty is right around the corner. If we're together in a year, will we be talking about it?

I turn the shower on and tell myself to stop thinking about all of those scenarios. I'm totally putting the cart before the horse, in more ways than one, but Acno has changed my life. The time I've spent with him has changed my outlook, and he's given me hope things can be different. It's a hope I never had before. To where he's no longer tense, I'm no longer anxious.

There's a partner there for me at the end of the day, someone hanging out in bed when I get there. He's interested in my day, he asks Erza about her school work, and he bugs me if I work too late at night. From him I've learned to take a break and not take things so seriously. I'm okay with putting my store on vacation for a few days a week to allow myself to catch up, as long as he's by my side.

I've never had the support before, and maybe that's what scares me more than anything. I feel like it can be ripped away as quickly as I got it, but in the end, I also tell myself I can't think of life in this way. Constantly waiting on the other shoe to drop is going to get me nowhere, and I've already been there. Now, I'm looking for a place, and that place is beside Erza and Acno.

"Mommy," Erza asks a little while later, after homework and showers. "Do you mind if Acky tucks me in tonight?"

"No cheesecake, as long as he wants to," I reach down and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I love you."

"Love you too, Mommy."

I stand back, watching as Acno tucks her into the sofa bed, Tux right beside her. She and the cat are inseparable, and I love that she has a friend she can count on, even if it is a feline. I'm not even paying attention to what they say to one another, just watch as she allows him to pull the covers up to her chin, and drops a kiss on her forehead.

"Love you, Sprite," he says the words first, and my heart clenches. It stops beating for a few seconds and I thank God this man came into our lives when he did. He saved us, whether he knows it or not.

"Love you too, Acky," she yawns, turning over, pulling Tux deeper into her arms.

I go to the door and check the lock, while Acno turns off all the lights, except for the nightlight we bought her the third night we stayed here. "You comfortable?" he asks, but she's already out. That's how comfortable my daughter is in his home. It takes her seconds to fall asleep. Another blessing I sometimes don't think I deserve.

Once we know for sure she's asleep, he grabs my hand and we head for the bedroom.

As much as I love my daughter, this is my favorite time of the day. It's just Acno and me in our own little cocoon, nothing of the outside world is let in as we spend a few hours together every night. It's the best part of my day.

* * *

 _Acnologia_

"You sick of us yet?" Irene asks as she starts turning down the sheets, and fluffing the pillows.

I swear I think she has magic hands when she does this; there has never been a time I've slept better than when she turns down the sheets and fluffs the pillows. The only thing not letting me enjoy it are the words she's just spoken.

"Sick of you? Are you insane? Have I given you any reason to think I'm sick of you?"

Now I'm panicking, because I know damn good and well, I've told her a few times how much my life has changed, how much better it is with the two of them here.

"No," she shakes her head. "But I wonder if you sometimes don't miss your old life, without all of us and all of our stuff crowding yours."

My eyes follow where she's pointing to the chair in my bedroom. Before it had been completely bare, now it holds a few hoodies and more bras than it's ever seen in the years I've lived here.

"While I'm willing to admit it's a little more cramped than I thought it would be," I walk over and put my arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck with my nose before dropping a kiss on the pulse point. "It doesn't bother me that much."

"I don't want us to wear out our welcome."

"If it starts being a huge nuisance to us, then we'll look for something bigger," I'm not even thinking about my words - they are the truth, spewing from my lips. "But for now, I'm perfectly happy where we are." Then it dawns on me, she might be saying she's upset. "Are you happy here with me? I know it's cramped, but I thought we were making do okay."

"We are," she leans up, pressing a chaste kiss against my lips. "I just don't want us to take over your house. We're two women and it would be easy for us to do. I mean right now, I'm not even sure where your toothbrush is on the sink in the bathroom, and I'm pretty sure you don't even have a drawer in your dresser anymore, because Tinkerbell has invaded."

"All of which I've allowed, babe," I assure her. "If any of this bothered me, I'd let you know, but honestly it doesn't. We're going to have some growing pains, but trust me, this isn't one of them."

"To most men it would be, Acno, and I think that says more about you than anything else."

I spread my feet wide so I can drop a little further down to her level. Here I can see deep into her eye, and make sure she's not over-thinking things. Her brown hue takes on a little darker when she's freaking out…and yup, I can see a tiny shot of dark brown. "I'm not most men. I thought you knew that by now."

"I do," she blows out a breath of frustration. "I just keep waiting for the one thing that's going to push you over the edge."

"Irene, listen to me," I cup her face in my hands. "I care deeply about you and I love that little girl in there. It's going to have to take a lot more than women's toiletries and Tinkerbell to change that. Stop freaking out, and just enjoy what we have going here."

"I'm trying," she bites her lip, holding back anxious tears.

I know she is, I can tell. She tries every day, tries her damndest not to give into the fear her past has left her with, just like me. Trailing my hand up her thigh, I let it sneak under the hem of her nightshirt, over the flat of her stomach, until I encounter the already hard nipple of her breast. Leaning forward, I drop my voice an octave or two.

"Try harder."

She giggles as I pick her up and throw her on the bed. Looks like she needs someone to show her how to enjoy herself, and I'm definitely the man for the job.

* * *

 **Author's Notes  
**

Been a long time, how have y'all been?

Leave a review!


	27. On Borrowed Thursdays

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe.

* * *

Their Last Hope

27

Acnologia

Thursday is seriously my favorite day of the week. It should be my most frustrating because I get very little work done, but the reason I get very little work done is also what makes it my favorite. From the moment Erza and Irene leave in the morning, I'm watching the clock, waiting for when Irene gets off work, and then sneaking glimpses to see when she makes it to the shop. My work schedule revolves around it, and I've even said no to jobs if it's going to cut into time with her.

I tell myself it's not crazy to want to spend time with her like this. Our moments alone are limited to when Erza's in bed or at school, and when she's at school, we can act like adults. We don't have to worry she may hear us, we can speak candidly and behave inappropriately. These few hours are my most treasured of the week, besides the times Erza asks for me specifically. I would never give up Erza in Irene's life; I'm aware they come as a packaged deal, but I do appreciate the time alone with her mom.

Glancing at the clock, I smile. Five more minutes and Irene will be here in my arms. Today's her last day working on the office, and I have to admit I'm excited to see what it's going to look like after she puts her finishing touches on it. We're both kind of surprised it didn't take her another month, but one thing I've learned is when she puts her mind to something, it gets done.

"Acno, you in here?"

Her voice gives me goosebumps on my forearms. I never thought anyone would affect me this way, much less someone like her. She's everything I'm not, and it's occurred to me that maybe that's why we work.

"Over here," I'm finishing putting the wheel back on the bike I'm working on. Sitting to my left is a Caramel Macchiato.

"Is that for me?" she eyes me, a smile already on her face.

"Nah, got it for me."

She walks over, scrunching her nose as she pokes me in the side. "You don't even like them. You hate almost everything Starbucks sells."

"True on all accounts, but that Peppermint Hot Chocolate on a cold day is the shit," I nod to my large cup, which I've learned is a Venti. "Plus, I also kinda realize I kept you up really late last night, so I figured you might need a shot of caffeine."

"You're right about that, but if I'm up late, it's much more enjoyable to be spending time with you than working," she admits as she grabs the drink and takes a long swallow. "So," she winks. "Finishing the office today. How do you feel?"

Tilting my head back, I truly think about it. "I'm excited, and I definitely think it'll give me a more professional appearance. The question really is, what are you going to do with all this free time you have?"

"Free time? What's that? I'm going to be working on orders for the store."

The thought she won't be here with me hits me like a punch to the gut. "You'll be working upstairs? We won't spend these afternoons together anymore?"

"It's not like we spend them completely together now. Most of the time you're doing something while I'm working on the office."

How do I explain this without sounding like a pussy, for lack of a better term? "I know, but knowing we're in the same space just puts me at ease."

Her panties melt, I can tell by the softness in her eyes. That's her panties just melted look. I almost give myself a pat on the back.

"There are certain things I can do with little space. If you'll let me set up a small table in the office, that I can put up when I'm not here, I can work down here with you."

Those were exactly the words I wanted to hear. "Sounds fan-fucking-tastic to me." I reach in, giving her a smooth kiss on the mouth. Tapping her on the ass, I grin. "I can't wait to see what this office looks like."

She smirks, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I'm getting to work, don't worry."

Watching her walk away, I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. It hits me like a blow to the head. For the first time in my life, I'm happy, so fucking happy I could go dance in the street. Instead, I keep the warmth in my chest and the fluttering of my stomach to myself. I'm not ready to share it yet, but I will be. Eventually I'll give this woman everything she deserves. Including my love. The thought doesn't scare me, which tells me more than anything how settled and ready I am. Going back to work, I whistle, and try to think of a way to keep Irene with me for good.

* * *

"Do you hate it?" Irene asks, her hand on her hip, her eyebrows drawn together in worry.

"No," I turn around in the office, not able to believe what the fuck I'm looking at. "I can't believe this is mine. You did everything you said you were going to, and it's spacious as fuck."

"Yeah!" She slyly smiles. "All I did was give you more storage in ways that are hidden from the naked eye."

I see what she's saying. A couch she put against the back wall is actually a futon with large throw pillows and hidden underneath it are boxes of files. There's a few other clever hacks she's found on the internet, but the piece I love most is the desk. It's painted the matte black she promised it would be, and she's replaced the hardware with chrome pieces. It's badass, if a desk can be badass. Everything about it screams me. The bonus is finding out she knows me so well. She didn't even have to ask me anything, she did this on her own.

"So you really like it?"

"I love it! I feel like you should let me pay you, babe. This was a lot of work."

"The before and after pictures will get me more jobs than you know. Plus we've kind of been living here rent free," she shrugs.

"While you're still paying on an apartment you aren't even at."

The implication hangs in the air.

"We'll talk about it soon, Acno," she tells me, grasping me around the waist. "I agree it needs to be discussed, but we've only been here a few weeks. Let's get through the first of the year, if we're still good with one another through the holidays, then I think we have something to talk about."

Mentally I calculate. We're a week from Thanksgiving, which means we're about four from Christmas. I can wait a month for an answer. I've waited twenty-nine years to find this woman, a month isn't going to kill me. "I can wait, I just don't want you wasting your money, when you could be putting it towards your business. But I'm not going to pressure you, so when you're ready to talk, let me know."

Leaning in, she presses her forehead against my chest. "You're too good to me, Acno. It makes my head spin because I never thought I'd meet someone like you. Hell, when they asked me if I was okay with you spending time with Erza, it was because I told them I wasn't interested in a man. Look what happened."

I laugh, tilting my head down so that I can rest my forehead on top of hers, kissing her hair softly. "I wasn't looking for it either. I told them to please put me with someone who wouldn't throw themselves at me, because I couldn't take it anymore. Neither one of us meant for it, but we can't help what happened. Maybe it was meant to be and we'll be together forever, maybe we won't. We have to enjoy what we have while we have it."

She nods, circling her arms around my waist, holding on tight. Seems like neither one us likes to think about not being together anymore. "I agree, I don't want to borrow trouble where there isn't any."

"Both of us have had enough trouble to last us a lifetime," I blow out a deep breath, realizing how true the words are.

"We still have an hour and a half before I have to go get Erza. What do you want to do?" She asks.

Normally I have a one-track mind when it comes to this woman. I want her in my arms, in my bed, naked, wanting me. Today though, I feel like we need to change it up slightly. I want her to know I appreciate her company. "Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

Startled, she slips out of my arms, gazing up at me with wide eyes. "No," she shakes her head, a look of wonder on her face. "Can't say I ever have. I never knew anyone who had one until I met you."

For some reason that makes my chest puff out like I'm ten feet tall and completely bullet proof. "What do you say we take the bike out for a spin? It's a little cold, but I'll give you some clothes to wear. I'll have you back in time to go get Sprite."

I can see her weighing the pros and cons in her head. Her eyes flash from me to where my bike sits, and then back to me for at least a good two minutes. This has to be completely her decision; I don't want to influence it in any way, which is hard for me. I love feeling the wind through my hair, love the roar in my ears, and the vibration between my thighs. The first time I straddled a bike, I knew I'd always have one in my life. It's hard for me to remember not everyone has been in the same situation, they don't appreciate the steel horse the same way I do.

"We'll be safe?"

"I would never knowingly put you in a dangerous situation. It's just like a car, there's always a chance someone else on the road is a dumbass. I'm experienced, I've been riding a bike since I was eighteen, I can handle almost anything thrown at me. With you on the back, I'll be extra careful."

She thinks about the decision again. I find myself holding my breath, I want this experience with her. Only one other woman has ridden bitch, and that's because we were friends and she needed a ride home. It'll mean a lot to me if I can get Irene behind me. I try not to let her see how important the decision is to me.

"I trust you with everything, so it'd be stupid for me not to trust you with this. Sure, I'll go for a ride with you."

Day. Fucking. Made.

* * *

There's never been a feeling like the one I'm experiencing right now. Irene sits behind me, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist as we take the road outside of the shop, leading to the bridge. I know all the routes around the shop by heart, along with their times. As soon as she told me how much time we had before she had to pick up Erza, I knew the route we'd take. It's straight over the bridge and then back around the river walk, before heading back onto the bridge and coming back to this side of the city. If I drive in the farthest lanes, she'll be able to see the amazing views as we cross over the water.

"Be sure and look out, it's beautiful," I tell her as we stop at a red light. "Relax," I grip her hand in mine. "We're gonna take it slow and I won't let anything happen to you. Enjoy the freedom."

As we get our green light and head over the bridge, she lifts her mouth to my ear, making sure I can hear her over the rush of the wind. "I've never been this free before."

Neither have I. Gripping her hand in mine, I squeeze it to let her know I understand the emotions flowing through her body. I understand the excitement and the bit of adrenaline that rushes as soon as you realize you are free. It's like flying without a safety net. I feel like we're dragons soaring through the sky. I wish I could see all this through her eyes, experience it for the first time with her. If I look back on my life, that will probably be my one regret. I didn't wait until I had someone like Irene to experience the most amazing parts of life with.

I tell her as much when we stop at the light coming off the bridge.

She grips my waist tighter. "I need you to show me. We need to be the couple who takes each other by the wing and life by the tail, but I'm gonna need you to save me from myself. If I'm allowed to, I'll talk myself out of it every time."

It surprises me to hear her talk about herself like this. All this time I've thought of her as a woman who's brave and gives a middle finger to anything that makes her scared. "You're the bravest person I know."

Her voice is warm against my ear. "Only because you make me that way."

I shiver because those words are the most powerful I've ever heard in my life. I'll take them with me, hold them close until the day I die, and dare some motherfucker to snatch them from me. I can't even speak, so I take off, back across the bridge.

When we get back and I have a minute to reflect, I know this will go down as one of the top three experiences of my life.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

I am quite surprised you guys are still tuning in. As I have promised,as long as there are those who leave reviews, I will keep on updating.

Thank you ever loyal reviewers. And for the two guests, thank you. It's a bummer the series ended abruptly and unfair to Irene (the momma has a lot of potential). I only hope Hiro could include her in his spin-offs, especially in Edens Zero, where she'll be Elsie's mom. If I'm not mistaken, Elsie is a space princess, hope Irene will be the queen. I am really rooting for a healthy mother-daughter relationship.

Please leave reviews. Let me know what you think. Your favorite parts! And the things you're looking forward to in this fanfic. We're going to the ex-husband, and Zeref too for sure. If this will go a long way, maybe we could also see other FT characters! Who do you want to see? Jellal seems possible.

Leave a review! They motivate authors to keep on writing.


	28. Getting Real

I do not own anything. Credits to Hiro Mashima and Laramie Briscoe

* * *

Their Last Hope

28

Irene

Happiness has a way of sneaking up on us. I don't realize how much I've been smiling, how I laugh more easily, I say yes without even thinking of no, because negativity is a thing of my past.

Someone I work with told me today that I look younger than I have in years. I look like I'm enjoying life, and whatever's been holding me back for the last little bit, she hopes it's gone, because I act like a completely different person.

She's right. I didn't realize how much I was holding in to keep myself together. Now that I have someone share in my thoughts, my hopes, my fears, my desires, and my dreams, it's made things easier. There's no longer a burden I feel I carry on my own.

The happiness almost bursts from me as I hear my cell phone ring, and I see Acno's name. "Hey!" I answer with a smile, because he's the major positive force, he's the one putting forth all the good things. He's made me change for the better. I've almost stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. Almost.

"Irene, where are you?" His voice is serious. There's no teasing lilt to it, no use of the word babe when he addresses me. Suddenly I'm nervous. My hand grips the phone, trying to keep the shaking down to a minimum. I'm not sure why I'm shaking, but he's scaring me.

"I just left work, I'm about to go pick Erza up from school." He should know this. We've lived with him for weeks. He knows our routine like the back of his hand.

"I think you better come here first." He's matter-of-fact about it, his voice strangled as he speaks over the line.

"Is something wrong with Erza? Did they call you from school? I added you to the list to pick her up," I'm rambling and I know it, but I'm trying to get a straight answer from him.

"Can Anna pick her up?"

Is something wrong with him? "Acno are you hurt?" I'm panicking as I merge into traffic and switch directions, instead of heading towards Erza's school, I head towards Acno's shop.

"No, but I don't think Erza needs to be here. Call Anna, have her pick Erza up, and get here as soon as you can. When you get here, we'll deal with this together."

"What is this Acno? What are you not telling me?" It's official, I'm freaking the fuck out. Before I get to his shop, I'm probably going to have a nervous breakdown.

"I don't want to get into it over the phone. Just get her as quickly as you can without killing yourself or anyone else."

His words don't exactly evoke a calming feeling. What the hell is going on? We were great yesterday, we've been great. I don't understand what this coldness and the lack of answers is from him. "Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can. Let me call Anna, and then I want some fucking answers."

"You'll get them."

He hangs up, and I'm left with my mouth hanging open. This can't be the same guy who's been so sweet to me, the one who loves my daughter, who has a cat he changed the name of just to make her happy. He's obviously a pod person. I quickly call Anna, telling her I'll be by to get Erza as soon as I can. First I have to see what the hell is going on with the man I was making plans with. They weren't firm plans, but damnit, they were mine.

When I get to the shop, there's a car parked out in front I've never seen before. Immediately a feeling of dread sweeps over my body. I'm not sure who it is, or what they want, but it scares me. It's like one of those omens – where someone walks over your grave and you can feel it in the goosebumps on the back of your neck. That's the exact feeling that courses through my body.

I do a shitty job of parking, throwing up a prayer that someone doesn't hit me, before bailing out of the driver side door and all but running into the shop. I'm mad as hell when I enter, and I get even madder when I see Acno standing, his arms crossed, eyeing a man in a suit.

"What the hell is going on?"

The man in the suit takes a look at me, does a once over, before turning to face me. "Are you Irene Aizawa?"

I hate the fact I still have his last name. I would change it if it weren't for Erza. I don't want people to think she's my step-daughter, but God I hate the fucking name. "Yes, Irene Scarlet-Aizawa, can I help you?"

He reaches into the jacket pocket of his suit, extracting some papers, handing them to me. I automatically put my hand out, because that's what I've been trained to do when someone hands you something.

"You've been served," he informs me, before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Pompous ass motherfucker," Acno growls as he watches the other man walk away. "He's been here for almost two hours waiting on you to get here. I couldn't let you bring Sprite into this."

My hands are shaking as I listen to him. I understand what he's saying, but in some ways it's not completely computing. "Did…did he tell you what this is about?" I can't bring myself to flip up the cover sheet, to see what the papers tell me.

"He wouldn't tell me because we're not married. What kind of fucking bullshit is that? We spoon every night, but he didn't like that answer."

My heartbeat slows down a little, regulating some as I listen to Acno talk. He's always a calming force, but even he's pissed off about whatever these papers may be. "I'm scared to look," I finally tell him, my voice small and hoarse.

There's only one person I know who's rich enough to have me served by a process server, and I don't even want to think about the implications. My bottom lip trembles as I look up at Acno. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Babe," he sighs, grabbing my hand, pulling me into the office and over to the couch. He sits down, grasping my waist as he tugs me onto his lap. "We'll open them together, but you have to at least see what it is. I have a feeling it's about Erza."

"I do too," I admit, but admitting it out loud doesn't make it any better. It doesn't take away my anxiety, nor does it make the papers I'm holding go away.

"C'mon, whatever this is, we'll face it together."

My heart melts because I know he's telling the truth, but at what point is it too much? I ask myself that question once a week. When will we get to be too much for him to deal with? So far, he doesn't seem to be tiring of us. Fingers shaking, I lift up the top page. My eyes scan the copy and my worst fears come true in the blink of an eye.

"What does it say?" he asks as he hears my gasp. His voice comes from far away. There's a part of me that wants to ignore the papers, wants to run and pretend like this never happened.

"Erza's dad is going for joint custody and trying to take primary away from me."

I can't quite believe I've said the words, because never in my life did I think he would ask for it. He's seen Erza maybe twice since we've been divorced, never expressed an interest in wanting to get to know her, and then out of the blue – this? I don't know how to feel, I don't know how to react, and I sure as hell don't know how I'm going to hold all this together.

"What the fuck is this?" He grabs the papers out of my hands, scanning over it himself. "Son of a fucking bitch, they're using my record against you?"

I hadn't even gotten that far into the paperwork. What better way to try and steal his daughter back by pointing out the ex-con who's been more of a father to her than her real one will ever be? "Doesn't surprise me, he's dirty when it comes to getting what he wants. I have an attorney from when we got divorced. I'll call and get an appointment in a few minutes. I just have to let the shock wear off."

"I'm gonna be here, in whatever capacity you need me, for as long as you want me," he says, hugging me tightly to him.

My fingers cling to his forearms, digging into his skin, denting them with the force of my grip. I hold on tightly to the one thing that centers and grounds me in the crazy world we live in. I let a few tears leak from my eyes, a few thoughts come to the surface that I probably shouldn't, and then I become ferocious in my anger. This man has already taken too much from me. I'll be damned if I give up anything else to him.

"Good, I'll need you by my side to fight him. He doesn't fight fair and he's a real asshole. He's not going to make me give up anything more than I've already given up. He wants a fight; I'll give him a fucking fight. He's about to meet the berserk me, the one you helped me discover."

"What's the first thing we need to do?" He's all-in, I can tell by the way his dark eyes fire up for me. This man will do anything to protect me, to protect my daughter. That's what I've wanted for so long, and now I have it, it's not getting snatched from me. Not if I can help it. I'll fight until my dying day to keep not only her safe, but our happiness intact.

"I'm going to need to see my lawyer," I untangle myself from him, already scrolling through the contacts on my phone. She's well aware of my situation, and back when I was divorcing took me on pro-bono. If it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have gotten out with what I did - his attorneys are the best money can buy.

"Ur? This is Irene. I need your help."

* * *

Acnologia

I listen as Irene explains what's happened to the woman on the other end of the phone. As I hear her words, feel the tension in her body, and see the emotions across her face, I get angrier. I wonder how in a time where I'm the happiest I've ever been, I'm also more scared than I've ever been. The emotions switched in the blink of an eye to polar opposites.

There's a gnawing in my gut that's forcing me to look at myself and realize a few major truths. Irene would be better off without me; she could fight this easier if I weren't in her corner. I have to give her the out she needs if she wants it, even though I told her I'd be here no matter what. I don't want to be the reason she loses her child. There's no way I could live with myself or face Erza's sweet face if I were the cause of such pain.

When she gets off the phone, her face is red, but she seems more together.

"We need to head to her office; she's going to file a motion for discovery. She wants to know why, all of a sudden, after years of no contact, he has a desire to see his child."

"Wait," I grab hold of her shoulders, keeping her from marching to my truck. "Before we go, I have something I have to tell you."

Her gaze meets mine head on and I admire the way she's not backing down. I can almost see it in her eyes, she knows I'm going to say the hard shit here, and she's facing it, going to let me get it out.

"If it would be easier for you to let me go, babe, you gotta tell me. I know my past does absolutely nothing to help you with this. I saw my name in that paperwork, and I know he's going to use me against you," I don't know what else to say, how to lay it out there any clearer than this.

She grabs hold of my face between her two palms. "You're going to be the only thing besides Erza that keeps me going. I have a feeling once we try to push back, once I prove to him I'm not going to sit here and take it like I used to, he's going to give up. Shouta likes to be an asshole, but when he has to work for it, it loses its appeal. He's successful in business because he's a shark. He waits until a company is at their lowest, has no fight left, and then takes it out from under them," she takes a deep breath. "If he wanted to do this to me, he should have done it a year ago. That's when I was at my lowest. I couldn't have fought him then, but now I'm stronger than I've ever been."

"I just want you to know I understand if for Erza's sake, we need to end this, at least temporarily."

Tears come to her eyes and she sniffs hard to keep them from falling. "The fact you're willing to put your own happiness aside, and put us first, says everything I need to know about you, Acno. You aren't going anywhere."

"I'd do it," I admit, letting my arms wrap tightly around her waist. There's a moment in everyone's life where they have to make a decision. The decision to lay all their feelings out on the table, regardless of their fear, and this is my moment. I have to let her know how I feel before she begins the fight of her life. "I'd do anything for either one of you," my voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I love you both that much. I'd sacrifice whatever it took to give you everything you deserve."

Her intake of breath tells me all I need to know. Her forehead lands against my chest and I feel her shoulders shake. Her fingers move down my neck and entangle in the soft material of my shirt. The words are muffled against the fabric, but I hear them loud and clear. "I love you too, Acno. I love you too."

They're the most precious words I've ever heard in my life. I take a minute to let them sink in, and then I become as ferocious in my anger as she was. "Then together, let's fight this fucker. Let's show him who he's messing with."

She pulls back, grabs my hand, running with me to my truck. "Let's do it."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTES**

 **HI. IT'S GETTING REAL NOW.**

 **THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO LEFT REVIEWS!**

To Guest: Yea, sure do. Long way to go, but that's a cute concept, Daddy Acno and Jellal!

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